The Dates

the dates

By Caroline Gillespie

the second date

a smile to myself in the mirror, it will be nice. 

i get in the car and give him a hug. i ask him about his week, he asks me about mine. we talk about things we have texted about while we drive over. about study abroad and tattoos and parents who were once strict but are now finding their peace. he has a calm demeanor and looks at me when he can. i have to make an effort to try and do the same.

the music he is playing is good, indie pop mostly. lots of things i listen to but not what i expected i guess. there are two times we have to break on the highway and he puts his arm in front of me both times in a protective way. i always thought a man doing that would make me feel some type of way, but i can’t say that it did. i touch his arm sweetly both times. 

we get to the bar and grab a drink. we are seeing a comedy show that my friend hosts so it is my home game. it’s a different bartender than usual, so i can’t get his drink for free. oops. i get a gin and tonic, he gets an old fashioned. we go outside and i don’t look for the people i know, i stay focused on talking to him. he shows me a list of red flags and dealbreakers his friends have worked on over the years. it’s honestly pretty fucking hilarious and we go back and forth debating which are red flags, deal breakers, or neither. there is lots of room for cheeky jokes and we both make them. 

the show is starting and we sit in the back. there aren’t many people tonight. the show is pretty good, and there a couple of times i make a joke to him or a face. he laughs and is laughing for the most part which is obviously good when you bring someone to a comedy show. 

we get out and i see my friend, i say hi and give her a hug. they introduce themselves. 

we are quickly entered into a small group. i end up talking to one person and he ends up talking to three. the woman behind me is smoking a cigarette and after a sec i ask her if she has one to spare. she gives me one, and i thank her. he tells me smoking is a green flag and we joke about that being both good and bad but i am glad he isn’t disgusted by it. that would be awkward. he says he loves the smell and i agree. 

we go get tacos. 

i tell them they are great. we eat them and i ask what he thinks. he tells me that he thinks they are great and they really fucking are. every time they are delicious. they are fast to finish and we talk a bit with the group. everyone disbands pretty quick and i mention i am tired. i am not really, but it felt like a natural type to approach a concluding move. instead he asks me if i want to go smoke on the beach. it sounds fun and cute, why not? 

it only takes two minutes to get there by car. when we get out he grabs a speaker, i think it’s sweet, then we walk through the alley towards venice. we hear some distant yelling and the lady in the corner is talking to herself. it’s all kinda sketch but it’s venice. i look up and the stars are pretty clear for los angeles. i comment about it and he says he loves the stars. i agree. i talk about how sweet this is and how i never do it and he says that the beach at night is his favorite. we smoke on the lifeguard stand and i can very softly hear boygenius from the speaker. we don’t talk much before he leans in to kiss me. we kiss for a little but i’m not feeling super in the mood to kiss. i pull away. he comes forward and kisses me again, i kiss him a little more, why not? we kiss for a while and i stop. we talk a little bit. we kiss again, he initiates it. i do it for a while, but i’m… kinda bored. why isn’t he using tongue.. ever? i do it for a little longer and then pull away. 

we talk about meeting each other and he gives me sweet compliments that i take politely. he tells me he is glad he met me, that i am great and fun to kiss. he kisses me again and this time i make an effort to just get into it cause, why not? i straddle him and kiss him more and it feels like i am searching for something to entertain me. i don’t find it. i decide to get off. 

“i need to move a little slower” 

“okay, yeah” he says. 

a small pause. i ask him if he feels like he has held onto his childlike spirit. he thinks about it and gives a good response - in short, yes and no - and he asks me the same. i tell him about my outlook, about feeling like i am on my first life. we talk about that for a second. he says that i am very thoughtful when i answer things and it is true, i guess i am.. he kisses me again…. i kiss him for a sec, cause.. why not? i pull back. 

“i think i’m done with kissing, sorry” 

“no, it’s fine!” 

quiet pause. i ask another question but i don’t remember what. i am kind of in the mood to leave. i tell him casually and kindly and finish with, 

“thank you for taking me on this date, i had a really good time” 

we talk on the way back to the car and it is comfortable and easy. he makes me feel.. neutral.

it is kinda sketchy so i link arms with him in the alleyway. i decide that’s stupid and weird and slide my hand into his and hug his arm to my chest. i am trying. i don’t feel anything good or bad. just neutral. 

the drive home is chill. five minutes in he holds my hand. it takes me a second to relax into it. i rub circles around his thumb in a way that should be cute but feels like i am searching once again for even a whisper of a spark. i try to think about his hand in mine and i look at his face trying to be drawn. i am trying. i talk about my family. 

we pull up to my house and i thank him for listening. he tells me he likes to listen, that i have a beautiful voice. no one has ever told me that before, and i’ve been insecure about it in the past. it feels nice to hear. i wish i could say i blushed. i kiss him goodbye, it feels like the right thing to do. 

i say “talk to you soon” 

he says “i hope i hear from you soon” 

he can feel it. i tried.

the third and last (game night)

i get to his apartment early. i really never get places early and i really shouldn’t have because he isn’t home yet. a jovial delivery man lets me in, and we have a lovely talk in the elevator that lifts my spirits. i make it to his door and receive a text that says he will be back in two minutes. 

when he arrives, my first instinct is to side-hug him. not the best sign. i try to seamlessly adapt it into one of those loving cuddly midsection squeezes and it seems like i get away with it. there isn’t a single part of me that wants to kiss him hello. 

he lets me in and two people are already inside, his roommate and their friend. quick introductions are made and they seem wary but welcoming. 

i almost immediately ask for the bathroom since i stress drank my entire water bottle on my drive over but it ends up being a nice moment to settle in. his toilet could be cleaner, but, honestly, so could mine, so i let it go. i am trying to be less critical so, to be safe, i simply don’t look around much. while i wash my hands i recite his friends’ names in the mirror in an effort to not forget them. i always forget people’s names (i still forgot one of them)

i return to the kitchen to find that he has begun cookie prep. the night before he had asked me my favorite sweet and i told him chocolate chip cookies so he bought the supplies to make them together. it is sweet, and i note that he is always quite thoughtful. we switch off responsibility well, and i feel fun and energized. i suppose that is the way i am around most people, though, so it isn’t really of note. 

the rest of the night can be summed up pretty quickly. his friends arrive, more introductions are made, we set up a special version of the game board and play an excruciatingly long game of settlers of catan. the music is good, the weed is better and the cookies turn out excellent. 

there are two moments in the night when he and i find ourselves alone in dimly lit spaces and he kisses me both times. the first is brief, over the shoulder in the kitchen while we take the cookies out of the oven and i acknowledge how cute it would be if i wanted him more. the second is more continuous but lasts only a couple of seconds. it happens while i am making my way to the bathroom, so he isn’t really set up for success, but at the same time, i know i could have dragged it out if i had wanted to. 

i sit on the toilet and think on times in the past when i have conveniently been given similar time and space to steal a kiss from someone. i remember how in those moments i craved closeness, sometimes even demanded it, and left wishing i could’ve had more. i stare myself down in the mirror and plead my reflection to be honest with herself, to try and break down the walls if she surreptitiously put them up without my consent. i beg her to feel it all, if there is anything to feel. i am trying. 

at the end of the night i find that i have connected more with his friends than i have with him. they are all very funny, and people i feel like i could get along well with if this was to work out. i had hoped seeing him around them would light a spark that i haven’t been able to light myself, but instead it backfires and just solidifies the friendly feelings i have towards him. there is nothing he does wrong but, as always, he is still just.. neutral. 

i look at him and think about how he would be a lovely reprieve if i had just been through something that made me feel too much. if i had loved and been loved and watched it crumble and now needed peace and safety. but i haven’t felt too much. i haven’t felt nearly enough and i am not looking for peace. 

the game finally ends and i am eager to head out. it is late and i am tired and i realize i never ate dinner. i don’t want to be the last one here, i don’t want to kiss him. 

going into the night, i had a built-in plan to tell him i would need to take things slow, to get to know him more before being physical, to ask for time to grow to desire him. i ask him to walk me out and i can see in his eyes that he wants me. there is nothing in me that feels the same. i decide that the elevator is as good a place as any to say what i have to say and i do my best to leave it open-ended rather than blatantly friendzoning him. i genuinely do want to see what could happen, but i also know that that is not really how this works. i say that. 

“so you aren’t interested in seeing me romantically anymore?” 

i guess that is a good way to put it, 

“no i guess i am not, i am sorry. it is not a never, just that i will need time. i understand if it isn’t what you are looking for though.” 

part of me craves the honesty of someone saying to my face, 

“no that isn’t what i am looking for. have a good life,” 

but of course he doesn’t say it.

when i leave i hug him goodbye and tell him i will talk to him soon. i can’t tell i mean it or not… i think i do. 

on the drive home, i blast music and swerve through the canyon. i feel a small seed of intrigue take form when i consider the way it felt to enter into someone’s life for an evening and experience their space, their people, their traditions. for the first time, i see how dating could be fun for me. a crack in the surface. 

at least that’s something.