You want me to date?
Can you justify your suggestion? Because I’m not sure I can release myself out into the wild blue whatever again. It’s only been *please hold while I do the calculations* … alright, I see your point.
I understand your concern. I truly do.
But I doubt men are clambering to sit under a swinging lamp while I hammer them with thousands of questions. Guess who’s doing the Pinterest date night quizzes?
But, seriously. I’ve dated before. It’s no biggie. Why go through the agony again? It’s like a rollercoaster. Your stomach flutters. Your heart flips. Maybe you vomit. It becomes old. Yes, I just compared dating to a midway ride. Maybe not the best analogy. But you see my point.
I refuse to use dating apps to meet someone. According to lore, people morph into different people. When you have the “You’ve Got Mail” moment, and you realize “Hey, you said you had blue eyes. And your eyes are black with red flecks.”
My last dating experience was too scripted. The ones previous were too simple. Not the guys, the situations. I like being caught off guard. Such as walking into a restaurant, and there he is. At the build your own burger bar.
Besides, I’m not sure the dating world is ready for me. I’m awkward. I ramble. I babble. When I say I want to move slow, it’s not “fifth date slow.” No, think molasses in the winter. Canadian winters.
I’m an acquired taste. Like a unicorn cake with a carrot stick horn. Or carrot cake with chocolate frosting. Or carrot muffins with with almonds. I’m really craving carrots for some reason.
Plus, I’m an Aries. We’re bold and impulsive. We’re loud. We talk – a lot. I need someone who’s willing to listen while I vent – for hours. Not someone who will nod with a blank look on their face.
And I’m an astrology nut. Let’s say I meet someone near perfect. But to my shock and horror: he’s a Capricorn. I’ve dated other no-go signs. They were a definite no-go. And an Aries and Cap? That’s a “Look, I really like you, but the stars say ‘nay’. Like thirty-eight per cent chance ‘nay’.” Seriously, look it up.
It’s safer for everyone if I don’t date. Maybe I’ll adopt a cat. Or get a cactus. Or I’ll wait. I’ll wait for the magic to find me.
The scenario: I’ll be walking down the street, lost in my thoughts as usual. I’ll turn the corner, and I’ll collide with some random awesome guy. Of course, we’d laugh as I help him off the sidewalk. Why does the girl have to be the damsel in distress? After chatting, we’d exchange numbers. And as I’m walking home, I’d text him. As I said, I’m bold and impulsive. We’d agreed to meet for coffee or milkshakes, and we’ll have oodles in common.
And he’ll be a Sag, Gem or Leo. Or Libra. And – for the moment – we’d date happily ever after. Until we breakup over something meaningless, such as he wears white after Labour Day or he doesn’t follow my Christmas tree blueprint.
I like my solitude. I like my independence. And … I have trust issues. Just listen to my gut, right? It failed me in the past. Today, I listen. It’s just asking for more dark chocolate.
But you’d want me to date instead of watching Netflix on Friday nights. Since I binged watched season two of The Crown, valid point. But my nails grow fast, and they need prompt attention. Filing. Painting. Choosing a colour to match my pjs. It’s practically a full time job.
I’m avoiding. Because I’m scared.
How do I know I found someone trustworthy and loyal? Beside the swinging lamp test. How do I avoid being hurt again? You said I’ll never know unless I’m out there.
Maybe it’s time to move on. Maybe you are right.
After all, they say moms know best.