Remember the criminal psychoanalysis guy I told you about – Plan B? Well, I thought it had all fizzled out between us after three weeks of constant communication (with a couple of brief interludes) and no date or phone number request so I just stopped responding to his messages. I didn’t see the point. It felt as if we had friend-zoned each other. He gave it a couple of days before messaging me to find out why I had gone quiet.
I decided to be honest with him – it feels as if we’re stalling. He didn’t understand what that meant but he did try and no worries. I left it at that for about an hour but then I felt really bad. I had just dumped the stalling-card on him without explaining myself. I wouldn’t appreciate it if someone had done that to me and it was clear from his messages that he didn’t really understand what that meant. So I decided to explain myself…
“It just felt as if the date or number request wasn’t going to happen that’s all. I’m sorry if my last message was vague or if I’m too direct. I don’t want you thinking I’m this mean bitch. I’m sorry.”
I did feel sorry. I was sorry. I was pretty bitchy to him. I felt even worse about it when I received his response.
“I’ll level with you. I don’t know how long you’ve been on here but I’ve not been on here very long. I have heard stories about what guys are like with girls though so I didn’t want to jump in with a phone number request or a date. I thought I’d wait a bit. Get to know you properly. I didn’t want to be one of those guys who tries to get in your pants because that’s really not what I’m looking for. I didn’t want to seem too forward or give off the wrong impression. I guess I was just trying to be gentlemanly. I hope that makes sense. Now I feel silly. Can we just forget tonight and just remember that I would like to go on that date with you?”
What a fucking dickhead I am. This guy was trying to get to know me. And he was too. I had a look back through the messages. He was genuinely trying to get to know me. He was respectful. There’s no sexual undertones. Not really. He’s actually asking questions, responding to my answers, asking more questions. When the conversation flows, it flows pretty well.
Old-fashioned romance. Isn’t that what I’ve been banging on about for years? Where are all the old-fashioned, romantic, gentlemanly, chivalrous men? I’ve got one right in front of me and I didn’t even realise. I’ve got no hope.
He’s cute. Like super cute. Cutest smile I’ve ever seen in every single one of his pictures. He’s a beautiful man or at least, he looks it. Stunning. Out of my league that’s for sure. I wasn’t entirely sure why he messaged me in the first place.
He’s literate and eloquent and has a good job. He has all his own teeth, owns a car and seems to be a pretty normal, functioning human being. Yet I decided to throw all that way because he hadn’t asked for my phone number or for a date in the two-three weeks we had been talking.
Where’s the fucking rush girlie? Jeez, hold your horses.
What the fucking fuck? What is wrong with me?
When did everything turn into such a rush?