He slid his number to me at the bar.
Just a few weeks ago, he was telling my friend I was cute. I thought he was cute too and I said it, but I didn’t do anything about it.
After all, I didn’t really know him. And besides, dating has always felt like a chore anyway.
I drove myself home that night, put it out of my mind, and went back a few weeks later.
I flirted. He asked if I was single. Before I knew it I was on his couch, cuddling for hours and talking.
And now I’ve found myself doing it. Again.
I’m invested.
That’s a big problem.
There’s this thing I do when I date.
When I’m not invested, I keep a cool head.
I don’t mind texting whenever. I could hear back 3 days later from a guy and think nothing of it.
I’m smooth. I’m sassy at the right moments. Flirting comes easily and I find it all rolls off my tongue like it’s nothing.
But there’s always this moment.
That moment where you realize that your chest has clenched up by the thought of them. When you realize you’re not nervous because you’re meeting a stranger for a date, but a part of your happiness really does depend on this working out.
You dance around their emotions, overthink their texts, and mute yourself at moments in order to not feel crazy.
Every text is planned. Your words become sanitized.
It’s like you don’t know who you are anymore.
And look, I don’t want to do this.
It’s not a matter of me trying to control this. I’ve tried and, let me tell you, I don’t think there’s a cure.
I’ve read the books. Discussed it in therapy. Attempted to “keep myself as busy as possible” so I’m not thinking about him all the time.
None of it has worked. But here’s something I admitted to myself today:
I’m not crazy.
And I’m sort of sick of others (and myself), invalidating genuine human emotion.
I’m not weird for wanting to have a fulfilling, communicative and interesting relationship with someone. I’m not terrible for wanting more, even if it’s early.
I want to attach.
And with every passing year, it seems, that’s frowned upon more.
When did we convince ourselves that caring is bad?
Or unattractive? Or crazy?
I’m not “crazy” for wanting to text him. I care.
Playing an endless game of who is going to text first, text last, or ask the other out has worn me down to the point where I don’t even want to text anymore.
I don’t want to endlessly beat myself up for doing the “wrong” thing when it comes to love.
I don’t want to put myself through this.
What I want is for someone to acknowledge that it’s perfectly ok to give a damn about someone you’re dating.
Isn’t that the entire point?
—
Previously Published on Medium
—
Shutterstock image
