“I have a guy I really want you to meet. He’s tall, handsome, in the right age range and HE MAKES CHOCOLATE FOR A LIVING.”
My friends text me the most random things sometimes. “I showed him your picture and he would like to have your number.”
And so it began. I woke up from a nap to a phone call that afternoon. Speaking on the phone is never a good thing for me, but alas, after our 30-minute conversation and the coincidence of us having plans at the same place that same night and plans to meet, I guess didn’t do too poorly on the first phone impression.
That night, my new roommates and I had a celebratory dinner after getting keys to our new house, and I looked up to see a good looking man handing me a bag. Thinking he was our waiter, I almost asked him for a spoon but realized immediately who he was as he charmingly introduced himself. Being a bit awkward, he left us after brief introductions and my roommate looks in the bag. “Hanssie. MARRY.THIS.ONE. He brought you caramel apples!”
If I could write a book about how to court a woman, his picture would be in the first chapter. He texted me later that evening and asked if he could call me tomorrow and properly ask me on a date. He called me each night to talk to me and asked me questions to get to know me. The night of our first date, he wouldn’t tell me what we were doing, but planned the entire date based off of the information he learned about me in our conversations. He picked me up at my door with flowers and chocolate and opened my car door for me. The date had a competitive theme (as I had told him that I was a very competitive person) and so with the first challenge, he bet that if he won, he would get a second date a few nights later. He won. The rest of the evening was easy. We talked and enjoyed each other’s company, and it was never awkward or uncomfortable.
The second date, two days later, was dinner and dessert with more great conversation and getting to know each other. We talked about our hatred for the dating “game” and the commonality of our ex-spouses and the interests of our kids. And he brought me more chocolates, much to my roommate’s delight. It was during this date that the first feelings of doubt started crossing my mind. I had known this man a little over a week and already we had aired the dirty laundry, talked non-stop through phone calls and texts daily and he had mentioned a ton of places he wanted to take me to.
I was starting to feel pressure. It was almost too much for me. I went from completely single to the next six months of my social calendar being booked. I knew I was totally overreacting, but this was the first man that was a pretty serious contender in my life after my divorce. He was forward thinking in a way I’ve never experienced, and he included me nonchalantly in his plans. And it scared me to death.
I kept kicking myself. I mean, what was wrong with me? Here was a really incredible man who was interested in courting me properly, was handsome, had experience in the crazy ex and single parenting department, treated me like a lady and a princess and was career minded and financially secure.
We set up a third date (my first third date!) and in the week’s time, I started to retreat slowly. Was he chasing me too hard? Was I not that attracted to him? There was definitely a connection there, but why wasn’t it stronger? Why did he like me so much? Why am I not joyous in the fact that this ridiculously perfect man liked me, wanted to get to know me and spend time with me?
The day of our third date came, and it didn’t help that I wasn’t feeling well. Again, we had a great time. He was funny, he thought I was funny and smart and beautiful and wonderful…but what was missing? It didn’t also help that on this date I ended up meeting his father (totally unplanned), who was just as wonderful as his son.
Shortly after that day, though, I told him that I needed space and needed to figure out what I wanted.
I don’t know what I want, but he never gave me a chance to figure out if what I wanted was him. Too much too soon 🙁
{Originally published on 1.2.13}
Hanssie,
These donuts would go over well in New Orleans!