Tag: dating

And for that reason, I’m out.

I will be doing another blog about the last year (likely in only a few vague paragraphs), but this one is specific to letting go of someone whom I had hoped to date.

After chasing after him off and on for almost ten months. After a date last night, I can say that my heart has moved on. I have long suspected that he was dating someone else; nothing else could explain the odd behavior and random texts.

I always assumed I was an afterthought, just based on the way he would text me. Single and lives alone, which I believe he lives alone; but, he would never text back quickly. Random blocks of time where he would just disappear.

In my head, I was always saying that he had a boyfriend, but, I would try to delete that thought — you’re just being insecure. I ignored a lot, because, I thought it was just my own insecurity.

Fast Forward: Reality

4:38pm – Him: Remember, when I told you a few weeks ago that I was going to get tickets for that show?
4:38pm – Me: Um, no?
4:39pm – Him: How long would it take you to get here? [A venue ~7 minutes from my house]
4:39pm – Me: About 7 minutes
4:39pm – Him: Hurry.

I had always wanted to spend time with him, and see how we would mesh outside of a bar. Of course, I say yes and get into the car and drive. As I park and start walking toward the front door:

4:49pm – Him: Hey if you already left fine. If you haven’t they might not let you in we just got into the theater.

It was at that point, it dawned on me, he didn’t care if I was there or not. He did not care that he rousted me out of my house and drove to come see him. He did not care that we were just on different sides of a wall. I was expendable. He had the tickets for this event, but was now seated.

As I was standing at the Box Office, trying to text him and let him know the show was sold out, I couldn’t buy a ticket… I got almost no reply. After standing there letting troves of people pass by me, on the verge of walking away, he finally yelled my name and gave me my ticket to get in.

The End

I won’t even begin to discuss the crossed arms and sitting away from me during the show. You know, textbook, I’m not interested in you body language. I wasn’t even given the common courtesy of a friend.

If you were my friend and I passingly text you a few weeks prior about a show I was taking someone else to. That person bails on me. I text you <30 minutes before the show. I ask you to come. I can promise you, that I would make sure you got in to the event, I would wait on you. Not send you some vague text that says “if you already left fine. If you haven’t they might not let you in”.

It can all be summed up in one word.


Speed Dating or Gay Dating

I had a very interesting encounter recently. It is nothing abnormal for a gay person, but for me, it feels like dating at hyper speed. It’s the same old story: Two gays swipe on Tinder and you see the magic animation that you’ve matched. At one time, I found comfort in that animation. It was telling me that there is someone out there with similar interests. There is someone out there who relates to my interests. There is someone out there who I want to know better and who (presumably) wants to get to know me better.

This should be a joyous event. In my eyes, this has always been an opportunity to take pause, slow the fast pace of swiping left or right down, and begin to relate to another human.

But after my last two adventures, I can honestly say that is not how the rest of the gay world views it (n = 2). Match on a Sunday, after a few brief chatting stents a sudden urge (on their part) to meet on Monday or Tuesday. While I do understand that I am extremely fascinating, I could not understand the urgency to meet so quickly. (I have been reflecting on this, in the past, I also had an urgency to meet, but that was in contrast to texting for three months without ever broaching the topic.)

With no real reason not to meet up, I did.
Matched on a Sunday and met on Tuesday.

Conversations were fairly traditional until I was being called “babe,” “baby,” or “hon.” It all began at dinner when a server came to check to ensure we were still alive doing alright. At first, I thought it was some type of a ploy to make me feel awkward due to the playful nature of the banter up until that point. But this continued.

After this dinner, we walked around the park, where he eventually talked about how he was glad that we are dating. I was so taken back by this comment, that I stopped walking and asked him what he was meaning. “We’re not dating,” I said, “we’ve met for the first time over dinner.”

So which is it?

Is it speed dating or is this the new gay dating norm?