Tonight, more on the latter side.I thought I’d made plans with a guy I’d met online. I showed up at the designated place at the designated time. I texted him to let him know what I was wearing, to make it easier since we’d never met.
He texted back that he was at the beach. He’d never received my message confirming our date.
I wore my sparkly tank top. I put make-up on. I was texting him outside of the place we were going to meet, where there was outdoor seating.
We texted back and forth. It was a miscommunication. I’d messaged and confirmed the date with him through the app we met through, and he doesn’t check that all of the time. He missed the message.
He was going to come and meet me. I asked if rescheduling would be better. We ultimately schedule a lunch date for tomorrow afternoon.
But I still feel yucky. As this was happening, I felt I was going to cry. I still feel that now. Tears verging on the edge, just waiting for an excuse to spill.
After 2+ hours, the tears still haven’t fallen, but I feel them.
I’ve learned plenty of healthy coping mechanisms over the years: journaling, going for a run, yoga, etc…
I’m ignoring them right now. After the disappointment of finding out the date was cancelled I went to another location. I ordered a beer and mozzarella sticks. An order of 8 sticks came out, and I told myself I’d take four of them home with me. I ate them instead.
I only had the one beer, but I bought a 32 oz growler to take home. I’m enjoying the first 16 oz of that growler as I type.
I just don’t know what to think about dating anymore. It feels like I’m always getting beat up in some way. Most of it is just little jabs that don’t really hurt. They just sting. But rarely is there a portion of dating where I feel good about it.
I just want to meet a compatible person. I just want to have regular sex. I just want to have someone to share my life with.
I don’t feel like that is so much. So why does it cost so fucking much to find it?
Ah, tears. There you are. Thanks for showing up.