I Will Never Ever Do This Again

So I flew to Lisbon to meet the man I thought was going to be my last first kiss into our third week of endless video calls.

I wanted to know as soon as possible: is he the one?

It’s that easy, my friends. My therapist told me not to go, not to invest before he invested. I chose not to listen. A flight to Lisbon to see a man who made me feel happier and more seen than anyone in the past 10 years felt like the best idea I could have come up with. Zero effort.

My last first kiss

Well, if this was my last first kiss let me tell you — it was one for the ages.

I landed and as per usual he video called me. I saw him standing at arrivals while we were on video call, both a little nervous and just so excited to meet.

Huge smile, gorgeous intense eyes, pretty much double the size I thought he would be in real life.

Big bones, muscles, hot AF, dressed in a light blue button up shirt, blue trousers and brown loafers. Perfect.

We had decided the day before I arrived that we wouldn’t kiss, that we’d only kiss when we really meant it.

We lasted one second before he put his big hand in my hair, another around my waist and gave me the very best first kiss I have ever received.

We made it to the car and just couldn’t stop kissing.

We walked into his place, he took my luggage up like the gentleman he is and he offered me a glass of water, then he began kissing me, pushing me softly with his body against a wall. He then wrapped all of my hair into is right hand and put his fist firmly on the wall.

That’s it guys. I melted.

He carried me into the bedroom. I am 1.78, that doesn’t happen like — ever.

After spending a few hours together sharing intimate stories about our lives and families, we went for a beautiful sushi dinner in Cascais, his hand on my leg in the car, him looking elegant and just so hot.

We walk in and a beautiful blonde is sitting at a table, I can tell there’s something there so I quickly head to our table and wait for him there. He had kissed her last summer, he said. Poor girl, I thought, if that’s all they did — after what I had just experienced.

His kisses — wow.

Dinner goes by quite smoothly. We drive back home telling each other crazy stories of life and we go to sleep for the first time next to each other. For a first night, we made little contact, my mind overthinking if perhaps he doesn’t like me quite that much.

I barely sleep.

Day 2

Here I am sitting in his living room while he’s out for work.

His flat is small but very sunny in an area that looks somewhat rough. It used to be the drugs neighborhood, he tells me.

Great. I think.

And because I have this amazing ability no only to adapt but also to feel extremely comfortable in the weirdest situations, my brain’s video editor feature immediately writes into the ‘story of our lives’ future projection, our first meeting into this drug ridden neighborhood as being so romantic.

I am a little bit worried but not that much, he feels like the kind of guy who’d punch someone out if he tried to hurt me. Like that’s really what I should be scared of…ok.

He picks me up after my call and I drive with him to run a work errand before heading to the beach.

A beautiful white beach called ‘Princesa’, 27 degrees, wind, waves.

He had a surf board but didn’t bring it as he wanted to truly spend time with me.

We walk on the beach for an hour or so chatting away.

We decide to dive into the ocean, wild, cold, beautiful, a bit like him at this point.

He was so warm on the phone and even in person the stories he tells me are very private yet the openness of connection just isn’t fully there. Nothing obvious, tangible, just something left in the air, unspoken.

I begin overthinking if perhaps he just doesn’t like me romantically. No hand in hand, barely any kisses but many smiles.

He walks into the ocean and I briefly loose sight of him. I look around for him and cannot spot him.

As I’m sitting there on the beach I begin wondering if perhaps this wasn’t a Tinder Swindler situation where he is about to steal all my stuff and I’m stuck there on the beach alone with no way to call home.

I begin counting the waves. Is he the Tinder Swindler my friends?

Is that why he told me to leave my phone in the car??!

Thank god he’s back.

I quickly discover he loves a little snuggling so I take any chance i get to be a little bit closer to him, to show him I’m there, that I am trying to connect with him but he seems to only be able to receive my fingers through his hair as you would the touch of a paid massage therapist.

I’m holding on for a little connection back.

He sleeps a little bit on the beach on a on person towel where somehow, even laying next to each other, we don’t touch at all.

Feet in the sand we return to the car and we stop at a supermarket and then a fast food place to grab a snack. His hair looks like he has just been electrocuted and in my mind I keep trying to register an image of him not looking too cute for fear of liking him too much too soon.

Of course it doesn’t work.

I cant stop laughing at him looking electrocuted. He leans into it.

We start playing karaoke in the car singing on top of our lungs cheesy romantic songs laughing like two kids. We don’t know the lyrics so mainly with funny imitations, just to feel the music together.

We drive home and decided not to go out.

I figure it’s time to address how he’s feeling after meeting me. I’m not very good at half way conversations and he basically tells me after a long speech on how he wants to meet his wife and the hadn’t even considered the possibility that I may be it.

I came all the way to Portugal and he doesn’t think I am even an option.

How does this even happen? Why would he tell me to come after I clearly told him I don’t have random sex with people if he doesn’t have serious intentions?

My heart sinks and as we walk into the house suddenly quiet he asks me if we are still friends.

Friends.

Okay.

I can’t help it, I’m quiet and a sad. I can feel my heart asking me why the F we came. I can hear my heart scream that we knew all along that he wasn’t ready for the same level of commitment and building that I am ready for.

He says he’s too full from snaking to make love to me so we put a film on his laptop in the middle of the bed, he asks me for a little massage, I snuggle him a little but my mind is racing through my thoughts trying to mitigate that feeling of disappointment and profound sadness.

I begin feeling like he doesn’t like me, like something is just off and I can’t shake this feeling, despite trying to over and over again.

I curl up on the side of the bed and I wonder why I am so sad. I know why. I hope he notices. He tries to come closer but I just can’t, I’m too hurt.

I check flights to leave sooner but there are non available at decent times.

I whisper. I’m feeling a little bit weird.

You’ve been acting weird, that’s for sure. He replies.

He proceeds to wrap his body around me and we make love.

I feel so guilty with myself for allowing a man who has clearly not committed to me come near me but I can’t help myself, the part of me who hates rejection stepped in and said — let’s make him fall in love.

With this kind of man, it will never happen. He’s either in our out. And do I even want him?

I crash, mind spinning but also telling me to sleep it off, to exit these toxic loop and to get a little bit or rest.

He kisses my shoulder every time he turns in bed and checks in with me —

Are you okay? Are you sure you’re okay?

It’s so difficult because I feel hurt, used, disappointed, but also like he’s actually a good guy. A bit faulty but in the end, aren’t we all just a little imperfect in different ways?

Day 3

We wake up and he immediately wants to get up and go to brunch. We sit outside a small cafe and begin chatting away.

It’s beautiful and sunny as we stroll around the streets of Lisbon with my personal tour guide. We walk in stores together sharing taste and opinions, he has very strong opinions on everything.

He often tells me when he disagrees and I find myself kind of loving it. I like that he has an opinion.

We get to a place with a little jump, he lifts me up and puts me down, we laugh and head to the museum of modern art, he pays for absolutely everything, always making sure i have anything I need, including tickets to the exhibition.

At breakfast I share that I play piano and he gets up tickets to the most beautiful theatre in Lisbon for a piano concert. We sit outside as he falls asleep with his head on my lap asking for little snuggles.

It feels a bit like the ‘staged home effect’ I had discovered a few years prior. We live together as if we had been together for a long time, same level of comfort as two people who plan to share a future together, but you both know, it’s just playing pretend.

You could be all of this if you both chose it, you are exploring the house — the furniture is staged, it would look a bit different if you moved in however it gives you the opportunity to check out if you want to buy the place. The only caveat is that you both have to decide to buy it for anything to come of it.

I looked around day one and thought — maybe not. He scheduled the visit telling the agent he was truly interested in buying but in reality clearly had no plan to buy at all. He wasn’t even considering it.

Suddenly my body feels invaded by a sense of loneliness, the same loneliness he is trying to combat by welcoming me into the staged him effect.

I love having his head on my lap, sleeping comfortably while I run my fingers through his hair. I love his smile, the way he moves, always so proud, unapologetic, not a trace of shyness.

Proud, tall, straight.

He owns the space he occupies at every waking second of the day, even when he goes from being a self proclaimed lion to a little kitten in my arms.

I look around, in this beautiful park of the museum while he sleeps and I realize I like him more and more with every minute that passes.

I also realize I am more and more sad. I keep reminding myself it’s going to end because he will not be choosing me.

And I can’t help but wonder why.

Why won’t he choose me?

Why can’t he see a future together?

Why can we not be two people who build, who choose each other?

As he wakes up we grab tickets for the theatre and stop for a little snack. Lions are always hungry.

He asks me what I would do if I were really rich. He shares he would want a farm on the beach to surf and also a flat in the city.

I’ll be very honest, I could do that now if I wanted to.

I share that I am already living life exactly as I want to, that the only thing I feel I’m missing is love, and that’s why I was there, to see if this could be the beginning of the missing element for me.

He shuts the topic down quite firmly.

Come on A, you must have known. You are like me.

He thought I knew this wouldn’t work.

Did I?

You knew it could not work at all.

Perhaps I did, I did call one of my best guy friends on day 1 who told me to leave immediately when I had realized the situation wasn’t quite right.

You will get attached by day 4, he said. Leave now. You will feel so much better. I look forward to your therapist telling you that I am, once again, right.

He was. He said I would go into Red Cross mode trying to save him and restructuring his life.

He was right.

I felt like I was all in. I wanted him.

The concert begun and instead of being the amazing show we expected the music felt like someone had taken my brain and shoo it for 40 minutes in a row then proceeded to murder all my thoughts.

Horrible.

We both left quiet and in a bad mood, a mix of the previous conversation and the terrible music.

He remembered I had bought a cute dress to go on a date with him but we decide to just eat out in a simple place he chooses. I barely eat. I’m feeling a little low at this point but I try hard to remind myself that it’s going to be okay. It won’t work and it’s okay.

I can’t shake the voice inside me saying ‘you shouldn’t have come’.

I think my heart has had enough.

Last night together and no sex all day and all night.

I felt rejected. Alone. Like i shouldn’t have been there at all.

Yet we get to bed and he wants snuggles and closeness all night. His feet on mine, his arm wrapping around me every time he wakes up.

I can’t help but give in, despite the pain I was feeling inside.

Why do people do this? They tell you they want love, they want someone amazing, available, ready to build, beautiful, with a big heart and who adores them, then they look at you, you are standing right there, offering exactly this and they don’t choose it?

I don’t get it.

Day 4

We wake up snuggling and it turns into more. I realize right after that everything happened without one kiss or one look into each other’s eyes.

I feel a little bit broken inside at this point. I look at the wall. He’s trying to keep one foot touching mine but I just cannot.

He asks me for more snuggles.

I tell him I’m starting to feel like his masseuse.

He thinks I’m kidding.

I’m not.

I’m feeling so sad.

Suddenly he wraps me up into his big arms and all the hurt goes away.

Was I imagining it? Was any of it real?

Was I exaggerating or spinning in circles on my own?

I have no idea, my friends, but the ice melted as we started making love again.

A little shower and off we went to breakfast.

Finally, four days into our 4-day date, we open up.

The conversation is once again at the level of depth we had set out to have on our endless video calls. He shares what’s actually going on with him, with work, with his thoughts and he asks for my opinion.

It’s my job to coach and I begin wondering if that’s why he invited me. My brain is so tired of work I have been overloaded and he was asking me to go back into my space of exhaustion.

Reluctantly, I did.

I discovered so much then and there. About his doubts, about his fears, about his insecurities and his lack of self awareness.

He was surprised at every compliment and piece of feedback I shared with him.

We finished breakfast and he said he was truly grateful for this conversation. I could tell that he meant it.

He grabbed me and held me tight in the sun, on the steps close to the cafe. He kissed me hard. He meant that kiss.

He had barely kissed me after our first kiss.

We headed back to the flat, unexpectedly.

We kissed and he thanked me, truly for coming.

I truly hope you didn’t regret coming.

I didn’t know how i felt so I couldn’t respond just yet.

I thanked him for making all this time and plans for me. I truly appreciated it. This would be how I’d love to spend my time all the time. With a man who is mine, doing things I love — walks, drives, the beach, work, museums, concerts, cozy dinners, karaoke in the car, snuggles and everything in between.

I loved experiencing this but quite frankly, I wouldn’t have put myself through this if I had known it was the end.

You can come any time, even when I’m not here.

He said.

Wow, so it really is a definite goodbye.

I replied.

He didn’t comment.

As I left the car and we hugged tight and kissed goodbye I could feel tears swelling in my eyes and I told him I would miss him.

I know he felt my sadness and didn’t know how to address it. I took off, late for my flight, turned back to wave at him.

Quick message:

Boarding

I know it doesn’t sound like me, but I’m boiling

Laughing emojis back from him.

I took off.

Here I am, on a flight home to my parents’, trying to figure out how the hell I am feeling.

This was the last crazy thing I will do for love.

That’s it my friends. I feel completely and utterly exhausted. I cannot keep trying and hoping and loosing hope and putting my heart back together each time.

My heart has had it.

Why is it that I can never find someone I love serenely?

Why is it that he didn’t want me?

Why am I so focused on whether he wants me instead of the opposite? Because until he didn’t want me I certainly didn’t want him, so what was it?

Listen to your therapist

My therapist asked me if I could speak to her this week and I replied — I’m going to Lisbon.

She literally told me not to go, that she has never seen a positive relationship start from the woman putting in all of the effort.

I actually shared this with him and he agreed.

Great.

Feeling great now, especially since I told him on day 1.

I made it too easy, perhaps I removed the element of chase, of desire, of work.

But would this have had another outcome? Because the truth is, I was trying to know before more time passed by spending multiple hours on video call with the guy. We were creating that sense of false intimacy with in the long run is a little bit destructive.

I wanted to know if I was going to die before actually incurring in the risk of truly dying.

I tried.

She was right.

She told me at the beginning of this:

You’re not stupid, you are telling me exactly how this is going to end. You know this won’t work, you always do at the very beginning of each relationship, so why do you will choose to jump all in and die?

Good question, my friends.

I knew.

He had told me he was unavailable and not ready. So why is it that I couldn’t just believe him?

Why did I have to personally go and get rejected in person?

I didn’t need one more adventure for f&%ks sake. I have lived more adventures that a rock star at the height of their career.

Why did I feel this need to put my heart on the line for something that just wasn’t? For someone who clearly told me he didn’t want to?

Why am I still feeling like maybe there is hope this will turn around and this will end up being my person?

I will say this, I love his elegance, his ways, his pride, his joy, his smile, his eyes, everything about him physically, even the double chin when he looks down and the bottom lip going over his top one when he makes a certain expression. I love his hair even when he looks like he’s just been electrocuted and his clothes even if he wore the same thing twice in the same exact color. I like that he is able to be content but deep inside wants more.

I like that he is protective, I love that he is snuggly, I love that he is sweet and that he has annoying opinions that I hate about the world.

I love his lips on mine and I love the way he makes love.

I also truly believe that if he were to be around the right people he could build a good life, and I can see myself diving into his highly risky, not planned enough, ultimately not such a good idea dream.

I can project myself into a situation where I have kids with this human and think that they would look so cute.

But I cannot.

I know I cannot.

I am nst sure of what I will do moving forward but I know the right thing to do — cut.

I should cut.

If there is any chance of this working out, I need to cut now.

And obviously do the one thing any smart girl know she should do: book a session with my amazing therapist.

The truth is, we need to take accountability for our actions. I chose to go despite knowing he was unavailable. Perhaps I was hoping he’d change his mind but in reality, I made the choice knowingly.

The only way we can change our future and re-write our old patterns, is to change our patterns.