*Guest blog* – A friend and I have been talking about collaborating on a few posts and sharing a male’s perspective on dating in our twenties (something this blog often lacks). He said he’d send over some thoughts – any my, how he delivered! I love the authenticity of his experiences and I thank him for being candid and brave sharing this with me and my followers. I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I did.
Picture the scene: you’ve been a little down on your luck lately, you’ve deleted all the dating apps from your phone and you’re very much having a “focusing on myself” period. As the legend goes, this is when you’re meant to meet someone, right? Not that I was explicitly hoping for that, but let’s all be honest. I think we all hope that one of those old truisms happen one day when it comes to meeting someone you might finally click with.
That’s when I met her. Sometimes, I have to attend slightly awkward networking events for work and this girl had seemingly come out of nowhere. She was all alternative fashion with beautiful eyes and you’re damn right – she caught my attention. Since we were standing nearby each other, I introduced myself and we seemed to immediately hit it off, even more so when it transpired we worked for rival companies. That and the inevitable cultural-difference jokes when it transpired she’d just moved here from Germany made for some easy banter. We were inseparable all evening; laughing and flirting and forming this kind of odd team in a sea of tired old men and desperate business owners shoving business cards clammily into any available hand. She asked whether I wanted to meet her again for a drink, and I ended the evening thinking I might have met someone genuinely fantastic after a long year of crap dates and false dawns.
The drink was arguably even better. Her favourite film was in my top 5 (Airplane), she was well-travelled in a way I was very envious of. Kind, open, intelligent – she even laughed at my jokes which meant she had some patience! We planned things we could do together and adventures that might be fun. The drinks flowed and I started to escalate things in the direction I thought they were inevitably going. Except they weren’t…
I forget exactly when I stopped feeling enamoured and started feeling like she was a little unsure and that I shouldn’t push it any further, but I think it was on the way to the last pub. It’s the little things. People who are into you will always give away subtle signals that they are, even if they’re shy. But I didn’t get much (if anything) back from her, and this was confirmed when we came to say goodbye. I gave her a kiss on the cheek and told her how awesome I thought she was out of genuine excitement; my last roll of the dice for any kind of effusive response. And she just looked at me, as if confused at what my excitement was about.
It soon dawned on me that I’d built up a narrative in my own head. Carried away and drunk on the romance of the situation, having met a beautiful stranger from far away, by chance, after all my hopes of forcing falling for someone inorganically on an app had faded. All she wanted was someone to hang-out with and show her around a place and country she wanted to get to know better, and wondering why on earth this guy was so excited.
In a way, this story ends well. Two months later she and I are now friends and I moved on quickly. Hopefully, she has no idea and I’m aware it was hardly big or clever to assume as far as I did. But it comes down to the way I view my own dating life in many ways. I feel I’ve been very unlucky so often that one of these wonderful romantic, devil-may-care situations will inevitably come true at some point! (I’m an old romantic at heart.) In fact, I’m so hopeful of being swept up in a romantic whirlwind of a meeting, that it seems I can often lose sight of what’s really happening…