Tag Archives: Dating

Shoddy first date: Part 1

online dating

Online dating, does it ever amount to anything important?

I wouldn’t want to speak for anyone but speaking from my own experiences, I feel people just go online to find ‘quickie’ mates. Maybe someone might want to argue that it really works, but after two failed attempts, very little could convince me to give it another try. I’m inclined to believe that only a handful could bear witness to dating successfully with someone they met online.

The first time I met a guy online, it just happened. I’ve always been sceptical about getting too close to people I’ve never met in real life but months of regular chatting had me thinking I was head-over-heels-in love with the said guy. At first I was reluctant about opening myself to the possibility of an online romance but slowly, with enough prodding from him I let loose and gave in.

By the time I started contemplating an actual relationship with him, we had gone for long chatting online and talking for long hours on end. Unfortunately, he bailed the instant he felt it was becoming too real. That ephemeral relationship had me hitting reset. I went back to being sceptical me; ever cautious of online relationships.

Months later, I was taking my driving lessons on a chilly morning when my phone rang. I didn’t know the number, so I didn’t pick up. Almost an hour later the same number called. Curious to know who was calling, I picked up. If people fall in love with people’s voices, I fell in love with the caller’s voice. He called me by my Facebook nom de plume, so I instantly figured he had found my number from my page.

The previous failed relationship was still fresh in my mind. I didn’t want to give him much attention, afraid I would get sucked in like I had previously. Slowly, days turned to weeks, weeks to months. One evening he called me up, and told me it had been five months since we started talking.

I had never once given the conversations we used to have any importance. That said, I was impressively stunned that he had been ‘keeping tabs’ on our seemingly unimportant ‘relationship’. From my own observation, most men seem to suffer from selective amnesia and the fact that he had been taking our relationship seriously enough to know how long it had been since we started talking made me give the whole thing a second thought.

Unlike many guys I had met before, he didn’t seem too interested in sex; he seemed somewhat discreet on the matter. At some point he told me he had been celibate for two years and was now waiting to ‘give it up’ to his legal wife. At first I found it corny but with time he almost had me convinced. But again, sceptical me couldn’t buy the ‘abstinence’ claims.

In all honesty, I found many things about him really admirable. For instance, when I told him I was working on a school project, he offered to help, so I could get done with it fast, and unlike the first guy, he seemed genuinely interested in me as a person, as opposed to viewing me as just another woman he could sleep with. He told me so much about himself and while I wasn’t so forthcoming about my personal details (for security reasons) I contemplated opening up to him if/when we met.

Then, he suggested we should meet up. I didn’t feel like we had known each other well enough to meet, so everytime he brought the issue up I would find an excuse to stall. By that time he had already started taking things too seriously. This I felt after I found an ‘I love you’ post on my wall.

I felt the declaration was premature, so I just told him there were things he didn’t know about me as we had never met. He kept on pushing it, insisting we should meet until, he called me on my birthday’s eve, minutes after midnight. He sang me happy birthday, with his oh-so-beautiful voice and cheerfully he said, “Now you’re old enough to become my wife.”

I didn’t refuse his proposal directly. I just giggled and told him I felt he was making a rash decision; and that if he learned everything there was to know about me, flaws and all, and still wanted to marry me, then I would marry him. He was six years my senior.

He offered to take me out to celebrate, but then he wasn’t my boyfriend; I refused. By the time I went to bed that night however, he had managed to get me to agree to meet him. We agreed to meet up that coming Friday, five days after my birthday. But then as I wasn’t too sure I was doing the right thing-meeting a guy I had met online-I told him we would only meet if it didn’t rain as it was December…

Women are gold diggers: part two

In my opinion, men are right when they say women are gold-diggers; but only to some extent. This said, I feel they make a grave mistake when they assume all women are gold-diggers. It’s extremely offensive when an honest woman is treated as one; as a gold digger.

Last month my sister was trying to find a company where she could intern. A friend of hers, who works in a bank, helped her secure a position in one of their branches. When my sister told him she had gotten the internship, he light-heartedly told her she owed him a few drinks.

Friday, that same week, he called her in the morning before she left for school asking her out later in the evening. They had never gone out before as he was engaged when they first met and was going to tie the knot in a few weeks; however he and his fiancée split up last year. Thrilled, my sister agreed to it, thinking he wanted to take her out as it was her birthday.”

When my sister came back home, she wouldn’t stop complaining how unchivalrous the guy had been. Apparently they had gone to two clubs and in both places she had paid for all their drinks.

“I know he had said I owed him a few drinks for helping me get the internship,” she complained, looking visibly disappointed, “but he asked me out. And this was our first time out together. He should at least have offered to go dutch.”

I tried pacifying her, even though I found myself lost for words. I was of the same opinion, that since he asked her out he should have paid for the drinks. I reasoned, if she had asked him out it would have been okay for her to foot the bill, but he asked her out; plus that was their first time out together.

Sometimes I like to think of myself as a little traditional. Maybe I’m wrong; but first impressions really matter. I have no issue paying bills or going dutch with a guy, just not on the first date. And if I do it, I would love to be the one who offers to pay half or all of it, and not because I was pushed to it.

“I’m never going out with him again,” she vowed. “He let me pay the bill, and he knew it was my birthday.”

I couldn’t blame her for her decision. If I was in her situation I wouldn’t either.

While they were talking about him getting her an internship, he told her teaching was his first love. Even though he worked in a bank, he worked part-time as a lecturer and would love to get a permanent teaching job. She asked him to apply for a job in the university she goes to.

After their night out, they rarely talk. Yesterday he sent her a copy of the CV he had sent to her school applying for a position as a lecturer. In the CV he had indicated how much he makes per month at the bank. He could be the next multi-millionaire in town for all I know; if he’s not one already. After getting over my shock, I started wondering why he would bother to send her a copy of his CV when there’s nothing she could do to help him get the job, as much as she wanted to return the favour. I just assumed he wanted to impress her with the money; anyone could be lured by that enormous figure. Maybe I was wrong.

He could be a generous guy, but the thought that he let my sister pay for their drinks on their first ‘date’ and on her birthday, had me thinking he’s just stingy. He had the chance to make a good first impression, but he blew it. In my opinion he broke at least all rules of dating etiquette. My sister already vowed to never go out with him, simply because she deduced he was ungallant; tight-fisted. If ever she went out with him again in future, it wouldn’t be for his charm but solely for the money.

Luckily for him, my sisters and I know in life there are things that are far more important than money. It may sound hypocritical to some, but truth is money is not everything. I know of guys who earn meagre wages but never miss the chance to treat a woman like a lady. Not all women are money-minded; chasing men only for their wealth. All they hope to get from a man are the small gestures, like him pulling out a sit for her, paying the bill-even if it’s only on the first date…

In short, not all women are gold diggers. In the process of trying to impress a woman with his wealth, a man could actually end up losing her because if she’s not after the money, that will be a real deal-breaker.

Life happens when you’re busy planning life

making plans

‘Life happens when you’re busy planning life.’

The first time I heard this statement, my mind went back to a date I never had with a guy I really liked about two years ago. Naturally, I’m one of those people who don’t just do things on impulse. If I’m hooking up with some girlfriends, I’ll have to plan for it. If it’s an appointment I have with my hair dresser, I’ll have to plan for it. If I’m going shopping, I’ll have to plan for it. Spontaneity isn’t a word I’m too conversant with.

I really can’t say it’s a good thing. Some might argue it’s good to always plan for things in advance-I thought so too, but not anymore. Through experience, I learnt that sometimes it’s actually good to do things on impulse. The problem with some things is that if you actually sit down to plan when you’ll do them, they’ll never happen.

Two years ago, I met this guy when I was at work. He worked for a popular radio station. After talking for a while we just clicked, and he asked me out. I didn’t even think twice about it; I definitely wanted to spend more time with him. You know, there are those people who are so easy to like; he was one of them. The problem however rose when we started setting the time for our date. Somehow our schedules collided. When I was free he wasn’t, and when he was, I wasn’t.

He suggested we should just leave the possibilities open so if he was free he’d call me up to ask if I could avail myself. That proved difficult because at times he’d call when I was tied up with something. I had to explain to him that I had my activities all planned out (It sounds boring I know, trust me). He on the other hand told me he was an in-the-moment kinda guy. Whatever he did, he did when he felt like. He made it clear that he wasn’t really into planning and all. At the time I was like, “What? Planning makes things easy.”

He dropped by my workplace, and we managed to set an actual date. We agreed to hook up later that evening. Everything was going on fine, until I sprained my ankle. I wanted to ignore it but the pain was too much. I just rang him to cancel; there was no way I was going on a first date with him limping.

It was around Christmas. Later that week my family and I travelled out of town for a couple of days. When we came back the Christmas festivities had relatively cooled off. I’d asked my boss to give me a few days extra and the understanding man he was, he had agreed, so I reported back to work later than everyone else. It was almost time to usher in the New Year. Soon, everything went back to normal, the holiday spirit died down, waiting for another twelve months so it could resurrect.

There was too much work to be done and even, though I’d thought December was a busy month, January proved worse, not because there was too much work to be done, but because generally, the month feels like a Monday; a mundane, lethargy-inflicting day, after an exciting weekend. The connection we’d fostered the first few days faded away. I got tired of all the rescheduling, and I imagined he felt the same way too.

The relationship we would possibly have had ended before it had begun. I could tell he was a fun guy to be with, but it just didn’t happen. Maybe if I hadn’t been too keen on planning, if I just lived for the moment, I would be telling an entirely different story. Maybe I made wrong deductions, but given that to date we’ve never hooked up, I concluded that sometimes it’s actually good to just do things on impulse.

From a Christian’s perspective I could decide to look at it from the, ‘God didn’t want us to go on that date perspective’, but normally I feel my ‘planning’ got in the way. So I do agree, that life actually happens when we’re busy planning it. We don’t know what tomorrow holds, so if one gets the opportunity to do something today, they should just grab the chance. Maybe I’m wrong… maybe I’m not…

 

WHAT’S IN A TEXT MESSAGE?

Scrolling through my phonebook, I see names; people I don’t talk to anymore. I scroll through my messages and I find texts from last year; others are from years back. Texts I exchanged with people I loved at the time, during our halcyon days. Days, when each morning I would wake up, anticipating a warm ‘good morning’ text, which would have me in high spirits all day long…sometimes we would text each other during the day; but at other times we would find our schedules too tight to find texting time; even so, we wouldn’t pass on the ‘goodnight’ texts. Life was in deed good.

Yesterday I was curled up on a three-sitter beige sofa, in front of the TV, with my phone in hand. I wasn’t watching anything on TV, and neither was I doing anything in particular on my phone…I was just fidgeting with it…my mind was far; I was in a daze. I had sub-consciously drifted back to last year; this same time last year…

Around this same time last year, there was this guy I was really into… before then, we had just been casual buddies, who texted each other once in a blue moon, just to ‘halla’. I enjoyed chatting with him, and even though a part of me was drawn to him, I realized he wasn’t as open; he would just tell me stuff that would leave me second guessing myself. He was only open if it was convenient for him. I reminded myself not to be sucked in by him; he came off as the hit and run kinda guy. The kind that would chase a girl intently, but flee the instant the girl dropped her guard down, leaving her a mass of scattered emotions.

I’ve been down that road more times than I would wish upon myself, and as with many other experiences, I was only too familiar with the adage, ‘once bitten, twice shy’; I wasn’t going to let myself fall for a guy that didn’t seem like a keeper.

He was too secretive; sometimes I would entertain the idea that he was the male version of me, because naturally I find it difficult to disclose things about myself to people. It’s ironic that somehow I still found it in me to write about myself… (Memoirs and all…).

If I had followed my heart, I would have fallen for him hard, but my sub-conscious warned me; guess that was the proverbial sixth sense- a woman’s intuition- warning me that I was headed for a precipice. So I erected ramparts around my heart. My words were only mouth-deep. Each time he texted, there was a hint of sexual innuendo in his messages, but nothing too obvious…I would heed to the red alarms in my head and downplay the texts; my replies would be relatively mundane; just the casual ‘howdy’ and weather updates. I had opted to play it safe.

In my head we were just friends. Friends don’t cross the boundaries to the erotic side, I would tell myself, just to keep myself grounded. Sometimes it would work, but at times I would succumb to my human weaknesses and find myself dancing along to his erotic tunes. It was dangerous, but fun…

I didn’t realize when the rampart came down and I started wondering if he was really the guy for me; maybe he was my soulmate…after a careful analysis, I realized those were just my hormones doing their rounds…my wits were screaming, “He’s a player! He’s a player!”

Maybe he realized I was being weary of him, because our once-in-a-blue-moon texts became daily good morning and goodnight texts. They were soulful. In a way, they made me privy to his warm, loving side that wasn’t all about ‘the physical’… I loved them… I would send him equally soulful texts…

The texts bonded us more than I had anticipated; our conversations started to feel meaningful; they felt deep.

If ever I was troubled in the middle of the night, I would text him, because sometimes he was working night shift…and lovingly, he would pacify me…it felt really good.

Each time his name popped up in my head, my heart would flutter; it would pace madly, pumping endorphins-happy hormones- all through my system, leaving me a happy mess. I was entranced by him. Deep in my heart I knew I wasn’t in love with him, but I also wasn’t unaware of a looming love affair if we incubated the feelings a little longer. The thought excited me, but my ever alert sub-conscious reminded me I was treading on thin ice…

Once, he asked me if I wanted to be exclusively his…and at that point I found myself at a cross-roads; he was cute, definitely shrewd, humorous…that much summed up the qualities one looks for in a partner, but somehow, I didn’t feel convinced he was going to stick around for long… at one point I just opened up to him, maybe it was foolish of me, but I like confronting my demons head on.

“How sure I’m I you won’t just up and leave? That you won’t bail when it gets serious?”

He didn’t even hesitate, “I won’t love. I’m here to stay”.

I almost believed him, but the perceptive voice in my head told me he was telling me what he thought I wanted to hear. The promise didn’t feel real. I remained skeptical. Maybe it was my sixth sense…

All through, my head managed to override whatever emotions my heart exposed me to. I had only my toes in the water. I wasn’t sure if it was Ok to jump in with both feet…sometimes I would impeach my own judgment; maybe I’m just being over-cautious…I would think. But the minute I thought that, an encyclopedia of ‘reasons why you shouldn’t trust him’ would surface in my head. Maybe I was only myopic, but he seemed afraid of commitment.

Sometimes I would just tell him some things to test the waters and his reaction would back up my hypothesis…he wasn’t really ready for the long haul. For the better part of our acquaintance since twenty eleven, I managed to remain casual; making a few flirty remarks, jokes here and there, without getting my heart involved… that prompted him to push further…

But the minute he realized things had started getting serious, he started bailing… I noticed that early enough, luckily. Once, I texted him, “I miss you”…it was early November; I’d never told him that before…I never wanted my emotions exposed; I didn’t want to feel vulnerable; to hurt, if whatever was budding between us went awry. I had been walking on the safe side all along, but somehow that night I just let my heart rule for a second…I hit send…

I bet he realized things were really getting serious, because after that he went silent for three weeks. Funny thing is I didn’t even hurt; I was piqued, but not in the heartbroken kind, just disappointed that after all my gut feeling had been right all along. He was afraid of commitment. I didn’t have to do the over-indulging on chocolate and staying in pj’s pity party. I had seen that train approaching from a distance…

When he texted again, it was like he never received the previous text…it was the have -a- good- day kinda stuff; nothing sentimental. I could tell he wanted it to sound sweet, but I knew that was a relationship that wasn’t worth investing in. It was over before it started.

what's in a text message

Last we talked on a ‘personal note’ was on my birthday, in mid-December, last year. Ever since, we have dialed down our relationship to the casual friendship we had before. Sometimes I feel there could be something amazing waiting to be explored, but I can’t help the intense warnings…in a relationship, passion isn’t just enough.

I snapped back to reality when my road down memory lane came to an end… the phone was still in my hand. I scrolled to the messages; some texts we had exchanged; I had saved seventy of them. We hardly talk nowadays, but I still hold on to them. Every time I decide to delete them my thumb feels numb; it refuses to co-ordinate with my brain when I will it to press ‘delete’.

I wonder, what’s in a text, that makes it so alluring? When I read them, they take me back to those happy days…when I proudly called him mine…