When it comes to dating, my ethos is ‘when you know, you know’.
But when you don’t know, my resolution isn’t so steadfast. Or that straightforward.
When I met John Wright, I didn’t know. I waited for the overwhelming butterfly feeling in my stomach. Or even the desire to feel them float through my body. But it never came. I wasn’t sure who this man was to me, or what I felt.
Making mistakes is natural when dating. I’ve forever learned the hard way about what I wanted, and who tickled my desires. But John didn’t seem to make a stir. And for a fleeting moment, I thought that meant something.
But when I realised I was on a pity date, that I had accepted his invitation to seem kind and open to possibility, I knew. I knew this wasn’t butterflies.
It was much worse.
And when you work out it’s much worse, how do you act cruelly to be kind?
I Couldn’t Decide If It Was A Nice Gesture, Or Annoying
Ten to midnight. The peak of the party. I had enjoyed a little too much champagne and found myself a seat to rest my dancing feet and woozy stomach. I clutched my glass of water and told myself to drink it.
John appeared beside me. I didn’t know his name, or who he was. I hadn’t seen this mystery man all night. But there he was, dressed in a grey suit, with a button-down white shirt. “Do you need another glass? I’m happy to get you one if you like.”
John wasn’t unattractive, but the suit gave him some allure. He had a kind face but wasn’t the type of guy I usually lusted over. But as men my age went, he seemed sympathetic, and I couldn’t deny that admirable quality.
“No, it’s fine.”
But he ignored my answer, seized my glass and returned with a full glass. He also had one for himself. “Cheers,” he said, drinking the water. He stood there for a moment in silence before I asked him about who he was and how he fit into the party.
He explained he was a friend of a friend of the birthday girl. John pointed out more of his friends, who grinned stupidly at us. “Do you need more water?” I shook my head. I didn’t want the first one, I thought.
Should We Believe First Impressions?
With the glory of hindsight, now was the time I should have shaken his hand and thanked him for his generosity. And I should have walked away. I wasn’t flirting with him like I would with other men. The conversation was awkward at best. And I didn’t feel the instant attraction that made me want to discover what lied beneath his clothes.
And he frustrated me. I didn’t want the water; I said no, and he didn’t listen to me. Though it was harmless, ignoring someone’s wants on the first meeting doesn’t set a positive precedence for the future.
Trusting first impressions is hard because we’ve all got it wrong at some stage of our life. How many times we’ve made mistaken first impressions, only to realise the first meeting was an exception. Everyone can name a person we disliked on the first meeting, only to have our opinion overturned on the second or third.
We’re taught not to judge a book by its cover. Yet sometimes, ‘the cover’, our first impressions of people, are more right than we know. Something deep inside us is screaming to run. But figuring out when to run is half the battle.
But Then I Let It Go Too Far
Out of nowhere, he looked at me. “Do you think it would be alright if I kissed you?”
Perhaps it was the champagne or his gentlemanly request, but I obliged. He kissed me, with the rest of the party hollering and cheering with applause. At the end of the party, he asked for my phone number. “Can I call you tomorrow?”
I programmed my phone number into his phone. He wouldn’t call, I remember telling myself. No man calls you when they promise, I convinced myself.
The next morning came and went. To my surprise, just after lunchtime, John called me, asking me to lunch the next day. Again, I obliged.
When Have We Crossed The Line of No Return?
I didn’t know what to make of the invitation. It was rare for a man I had met the night before to not only make a promise but keep it, and then invite me on a date. So far, John was proving to be a rare breed.
But is this a reason to go on a date with someone? Because they aren’t acting like every other person you had met? Is one nicety enough to override me not wanting to go on a date with him? That I didn’t find him or his personality attractive?
Sometimes, we let politeness confuse us. Saying no to someone, even though that’s we want to do, can feel rude. But going on a date with someone when we aren’t sure, or when we aren’t willing to invest, isn’t rude?
In dating, we dance around the line. The line of what we want, the person’s feelings and what is the right thing to do. The right thing can hurt us and it can destroy them. The right thing can feel like the wrong thing, especially without the wisdom of hindsight. What we want can be more confusing than anything else.
Unfortunately, much like first impressions, the line is a blur.
Then Came All The Cakes And Charity
John was waiting inside the cafe when I arrived. He remained poised at the two-seater table, accompanied by coffees and stacks of cakes and tarts. “I didn’t know what you wanted, so I ordered a bit of everything.”
The food was impressive, but it was his kindness that captured my attention. After a couple of mouthfuls of cheesecake, a scone and two cappuccinos, we began talking about careers and ambitions. “What do you do with yourself, John?”
“Well, I don’t do a lot.”
I didn’t know what that meant. “Are you working right now?”
“I don’t work. I mean, I don’t have a career. Well — I don’t have a job. I’m, you know, ah, between jobs.” He was almost stuttering between thoughts.
I looked at him, and I looked at the table full of food. “Are you looking for work?”
“Yes, I’ve been looking for a while. It’s tough right now.”
I felt sorry for him; his eyes looked sad and lost. He seemed like such a kind man, and it didn’t seem fair for him to be out of work. I wondered about the suit he was wearing the night before and all the cakes in front of us.
My head tilted and I gave him my best sympathetic eyes.
As we finished the last morsels of food, and it was time to leave, I put my hand across the table, connecting with his. I asked, “Can I pay for this feast?”
He shook his head. “No, I already have. I gave them my credit card before you arrived.”
Can There Be Romance When Pity Is On The Table?
I remember looking at John and feeling an overwhelming sense of pity. I felt sorry for him, not the attraction or desire I thought I should. I wanted to save him from his misery; I wanted to repay him for his generosity. And that wasn’t the magic I was looking for on a first date.
First dates shouldn’t be full of pity. They should be magic. Sparkles. Chemistry.
Or, they should contain the overwhelming sense that this person isn’t right for you. Nice, but not for you. Not pity. Not wanting to help them as a charity case. And not the dread of letting them down because you think how painfully they will take it to heart.
And as much as it seems cruel to let someone down, it’s better for everyone in the long run. It’s the age-old cruel to be kind. Yet, it’s so much more than that.
It’s when keep falling down the rabbit hole that we lose our sense of self. We no longer know what we want, we can’t decipher what makes us happy. We experience the niggling feelings of settling, and then we’re trapped by our own mistakes.
We create all this misery for ourselves because we’re afraid to make someone upset for a moment in time. We don’t want to see that solitary tear run down their cheek. Because we know there is more to follow. We fear the tears of others.
But fear can ruin our lives. Much like the impressions, and the blurry line.
We Need To Break Hearts To Create Love
When he asked me for a second date, I froze. I didn’t know what to say. What was worse, the feeling of pity was actually having to be honest and tell him the truth. There were no sparkles for me.
I blame myself for the mess I got myself into. Few people can admit that in dating, but I’m happy to be accountable. I should have been honest from the start. I should have told him I thought he was nice, but I wasn’t interested.
Now was my chance to fix it.
“I can’t,” I said. But as I went to continue to explain my feelings, he stood up and walked away.
We can’t imagine what our lives would be if we pursued romantic relationships that didn’t feel right. The joyless relationship, the romance that lacks actual romance. We can’t imagine what our lives if we let politeness dictate our entire romantic future.
Because if we imagined this scenario, we would never learn to break hearts.
And then we would never find love. Whether it be a love for ourselves, someone else, or the love of understanding what we want, we have to be cruel. We have to say the things we don’t want to. And we have to say what we want.
We often have to be the worst versions of ourselves to know what the best looks like.
I hated myself that day. But it was the right thing to do.
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This post was previously published on Hello, Love.
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Photo credit: Ellen McRae