I can’t remember the words in his profile but they were interesting enough for me to add him quickly. We chatted and he was frank about the end of an emotionally draining relationship and looking for someone older to experiment with “because now I can.” He unlocked his photos to unveil a gob-smackingly attractive man. He asked what I was looking for in detail, re-framed my words to ensure he understood (good looking and mentally sharp) and then said it would be too much for him at this time.
I experienced a sensation of still wanting what was going to be bad for me but I forced myself to wish him well and say goodbye. In thinking more clearly today, one of the last things I need is someone still coming out of a bad time and adjusting to a new life – I have enough experience trying to make myself feel good with someone to dull the pain of another to know it usually ends badly. He was also a good league above me looks-wise so the insecure part of me was glad that I wasn’t going to face the stress of meeting him.
I can’t remember the words in his profile either but there are signs I didn’t read them. He jumped quickly (as in not exchanging first names or any other generalities) to the times I was free and if a 5am meet-up would work.
“Tomorrow morning or early mornings in general?” I asked cautiously.
“Tomorrow’s good, where?” he replied.
How do I get myself into these situations?
This man’s profile read well (and I seem to have a thing for tradesmen/managers who can still do fancy things with their hands) and we chatted with a view towards meeting. He wouldn’t have a new mobile phone for a week but suggested we meet in the meantime.
I wasn’t keen on meeting someone I couldn’t contact if one of us was running late or plans had changed. I am old enough to remember that people met successfully without mobile phones, however, I’m also young enough to know that people who meet from internet contact often say yes and then disappear at the last moment because technology makes cancelling so easy.
Regardless, I started pushing back when he didn’t understand that I wasn’t meeting anyone I couldn’t contact. I reached the stage of stubbornness where I didn’t give a shit if I was being reasonable or not, and he eventually backed off after I assured him that I was happy to wait.
Fast forward a week and this one was messing with my head. He sent a text message saying it was his user name, let’s say Metro Tradie, and not including his real name – annoying because I don’t think he used his name during our chats and it’s late for me to ask politely. He apologised for the phone situation as he had only just started a new job – impressed because he made the effort to contact me on his second day. He gave me times he could chat online at night so we’d be sure to catch each other – more impressed. He started e-mailing photos and videos – delighted. He started sending five a day – concerned about what I was potentially getting into.
We have organised to meet for a drink on the weekend so I’ll see if the pros continue to outweigh the cons.
Added contact, chatted a few times, flirted, he asked for my number and said he’d call during the week at lunchtime.
Fast forward a week again and nothing. My spidey senses prickled when he didn’t offer his number in return so I didn’t invest much time wondering if he’d call. But the next week I logged in to delete him from my contact list and he was online and merrily saying hello to me. I didn’t know how to say, “Can you please stop typing as I need to delete you,” so I begged my leave and returned later in the day to delete him.
I now know why so many people are cowards when it comes to ending interactions as it was easy. I felt grotty and dishonest for a few days afterwards — like a kid throwing a water balloon at someone and hiding behind a tree — but I got the job done.