I felt reluctant to go on last night’s date. I matched with him on Bumble and we exchanged numbers after a day or so. He seemed keener than I was, probably because my trust in people’s profiles had been depleted since my previous date. We were texting for a week before we met! This is way past my 3-day texting rule where I like to message for a few days, meet up and then decide (or have decided) ‘yes’ or ‘no’; not wasting very much time.
We had been texting back and forth and I was beginning to wonder whether it would be worth meeting up, or if this would ruin our lovely texting streak.
I decided it was worth the risk as I had no better plans for a Wednesday evening.
He was gorgeous – his photos didn’t do him justice.
Wow, this is rare.
He was friendly and bought me a drink. We chatted and I giggled a lot. But I couldn’t work out if he liked me because his eye-contact was a little lacklustre. (As you know, I have a thing about eye-contact as my ex was more interested in his own reflection than my face). We got on well, there seemed to be a flicker of a spark but I could have called it either way.
After two drinks, he suggested we go on to dinner, or at least more drinks. Had this been a few months ago, before the Fuck Boy Incident, I would have been eager to go, but I chose to leave. I didn’t need to get drunk and snog him for him to like me. I definitely didn’t need to shag him for him to like me. If he likes me, he’d like me after two drinks and a straight-forward date. He was very gentlemanly and walked me to my car, despite it being in the opposite direction to his house. We kissed on the cheek and I drove home wondering what to make of our evening.
Fortunately, it’s 24 hours later and he clearly did like me. The constant texting has resumed and I hope another date is on the cards.