I didn’t post again about the philosophy professor because there was nothing to say. He disappeared. Every single date I’ve gone on since March 2020, can that be true, yep, March 2020, has been a one-and-done date.
In a few cases, this is fine. That guy who went on a rant about the homeless, out of nowhere. That guy who was, well, I just didn’t find him attractive at all. That guy who told me he fucking hated cooking. I’m fine with those guys disappearing.
But I’ve gone on several dates where it seemed everything was fine. Better than fine. Dates where I spent an hour and a half talking with a grown-ass man about adult things. Dates where I laughed more than once and so did the guy. Dates where there was texting afterward and some kind of notion of making plans to go on another date.
And then they just dematerialize. Poof. Gone.
“I have a theory,” said my friend P. We were eating waffles at my kitchen table. “You want to hear it?”
“Fuck yeah I want to hear it.”
I will not get this exactly in P’s words, but I think the spirit is correct. Indulge me.
“It’s the endorphins. You get a match on the app and there’s this thrill. Then you go meet someone in person and it’s not the same thrill. The app is wiring you to focus on the endorphins, so instead of investing in getting to know you, they go looking for the next hit.”
“So I gotta do what? Feed them chocolate? Go on a roller coaster on my first date?”
“I don’t know what the fix is. But it’s hard to compete with the buzz you get. And you have to be sufficiently evolved to go into a first date without seeking that hit, or at least be willing to look past it when you don’t feel it.”
P is an insightful human. I have been mulling this over since we had that conversation.
This disappearing act has the unfortunate byproduct of making me feel slightly insane. Did I imagine that guy was looking me in the eye while we talked? Did I imagine we laughed? Did I imagine he seemed genuinely interested in what I said? Did I imagine he texted me and said, “I would like to see you again” before completely disappearing? Did I even go on a date with the doctor professor technical evangelist audio video heavy construction aerospace engineer guy? Or did I imagine all of them?
I wonder what it would be like if we said exactly on our minds at the end of the date.
Me: Hey, that was normal enough. I’d like to maybe try to get to know you a little better. Maybe we could do something slightly higher stakes next time. Maybe there’s a little alcohol just to loosen the gears. I don’t know if we’re a match, but I had a nice time, I’d hang out with you again.
Him: Oh man, no. Just no. You’re weird and you’re not attractive and, I don’t know, I like a woman who doesn’t have so many opinions. Plus, let’s be clear, I’m supposed to be the most interesting person here and I’m not sure I can be that with you around. No.
Or, you know, some variation where they tell me I’m boring or too old or they don’t like my hair or my ass is too big and my boobs are not big enough or or or…
This is a terrible way to process these experiences. The front of my brain always lands in the right place, that place being, “Hey, he saved you a lot of time and energy.” But the back of my brain and my heart have a hard time with this non-stop rejection.
I pulled my profiles offline again after the professor ghosted. I’m thinking of giving up completely. I am a 50-something woman with an unruly garden and a cute but sometimes shouty dog. I do mediocre watercolors and I write well and I travel alone better than most people I know. I have, on multiple occasions, made myself a full-sized chocolate cake, frosting and all. For my birthday, for my divorce, just fucking because. I have friends who can help me move heavy objects, drive me to doctor’s appointments, who will sit across the table from me and help me puzzle through life’s mysteries.
I don’t need a man in my life, right?
Fuck.