That apprehensive feeling before a first date is great; it’s what helps you wear what you feel good in and helps you avoid saying something silly. And if the nerves don’t develop into full-blown terror, a date tends to pan out fairly well.
Nearly two weeks ago I had the best date I’ve had in ages. I felt confident and pleased with how I came across and as I walked through my front door, my date messaged saying what a great date it had been and that he hoped to see me soon.
So, abiding by my new-found-mantra of playing it cool, I waited for a text. He seemed keen on Thursday night, so why wouldn’t he text? Friday night came and went. Fair enough, it’s been a day. Saturday came and went. Okay, maybe he’s busy. Sunday evening approached. Surely he’d be watching TV and drop me a message?!
The next Thursday rolls around and still nothing.
By Friday afternoon, I figured I needed to take things into my own hands so I asked if he’s around over the weekend. Sadly, no text by Saturday afternoon. By Sunday evening, I’d thrown in the towel and deleted his number. What a shame.
Was he a bit pissed and regretted the “great date” text? Has he since had another date with someone more suitable? Or has he simply changed his mind and reflected on our date?
Anyway, onwards and upwards.