I tried a new approach with this guy. We messaged for a bit and then we had a phone call. By the time our Thursday date rolled around, I hoped this one would be a bit different.

Although I was reluctant and nervous about our first date, I still went. And it was a good date. I felt natural with him and we seemed well-matched. He didn’t agree with everything I said, I didn’t agree with everything he said and although our interests didn’t fully overlap, our values seemed similar. It was a date we both drove to, so all we could have was one pint and one glass of wine. How wonderful to not get pissed on a first date.

I didn’t want to ask if he was looking for a relationship, but luckily he asked if I enjoyed being single. Feeling an instant rapport with him meant I answered honestly. He said he agreed “100%”; that what I was looking for perfectly matched what he was seeking. He didn’t ask if he could come to mine for a nightcap and he didn’t make crude jokes.

On the drive home, my poor friend received a monologue. I burst through the front door, woke up my housemates and did the rounds; giving each one a play-by-play of this successful date. The possibility of him turning into a ghost was still very real so I kept my excitement measured and remembered to keep some perspective and take the date for what it was: a good date with no promises or guarantees.

He texted before I went to sleep and we had a phone call the next day. What a difference.

And then I went to India two days later. Would he carry on messaging?

Yes, yes he would.

Back in the UK, we arranged for a second date. Having messaged one another back and forth for nearly three weeks, we were getting to know each other and I was excited to see him again, and he told me he was looking forward to seeing me too.

Thursday afternoon’s promise: a drink along the seafront, a game of crazy golf and a wander along the pier. Then who knows?

Thursday afternoon’s reality: he arrived late, I chose the place for a drink, he was yawning on the bus and quiet, and he didn’t look at me much. Crazy golf didn’t happen. The walk along the pier was strained. We headed back to mine. He was yawning on the bus again. He said he wasn’t sure he could manage meeting housemates so we should do something else another time. Being incapable of reading the signs, I suggested we get together the next day.

After we parted, my housemate told me, “Don’t try and guess what he’s thinking. Name his quietness and text him.”

So I did. Then he replied, “Sorry I was a tired mess and couldn’t stop bloody yawning! Tbh, I’m not sure this is going to progress romantically. Had a great time with you and would more than happily see you again but it would just be a bit of fun for me, sex, a snuggle etc. I just can’t see a relationship out of it. Just being honest with you x”

I’m just relieved he didn’t ghost me.

Photo by Charles Deluvio on Unsplash