Credits: This post was inspired by a comment on my own blog, so thank you readers for continuing to inspire me 🙂
My friends and I have a theory about how figuring out how much we like a particular guy. This is how it works.
Say I went on a date with a guy and I come home with the feeling that everything went perfectly. It was the best date I could have ever hoped for, he was a perfect gentleman, there was no fumbling, we had witty, amazingly perfect conversations and the date went as smooth as it would if it was scripted in a movie. I would be smiling because I presented myself in a way that I was happy with, and I knew that he must be head over heels because I am just that amazing.
I call my girlfriend and spill all the fairy tale details of my date to her. And that is when she burst my bubble. “It sounds like you don’t really like this guy.” At first I try to fight back, but then I remember our pact and our theory. The same thing that I told her a few months back. If the date is perfect and plays out like a fairytale, then the probability is high you don’t like eachother.
We are all conditioned to expect love to be perfect and fairytale-like throughout our entire lives as girls and women, from happily ever after tales to romantic movies. That is why every time I go on a date, I forget our theory and hope for my fairy tale once again. When it happens, I am delighted and immediately start planning our future. That is, until my girlfriend slams reality in my face.
On the flip side, here is what actually happens when I go on a date with someone that I have amazing chemistry with, and I fall in love with the second they enter my presence. First off, if it gets to a first date, that is a miracle. It usually ends up in a one night stand. But if I somehow manage to hold myself back, we go on a date and every moment of the date is torturous. We have an awkward hug meeting, where I step on his feet. Then I stumble backwards, and get my purse caught on a nearby chair and knock over a plant when I pull it back. We stand in line (let’s say it’s a coffe date) and I am so overwhelmed with what to say to him, I forget to figure out what to order, and after many moments of awkward silence, we get to the cashier and I freeze. I can’t even remember my name, let alone what I want to drink or eat. He orders first, and I order the same thing, and come off as dependent instead of strong and independent. I don’t even want to go into the details of how the payment goes.
The date continues to go down hill after we sit at a table. I attempt my usually witty conversation, but instead it comes out as insulting or inappropriate. He does the same, and we have many bouts of long silence, at which point we awkward look at eachother. The drinks come and we talk way too much about how good they are, and are way too intrigued with eating every morself of our muffins. My usual wit and charm turns into retard. In the end, the only way this date can be resuscitated is if we somehow end up sleeping together after the whole mess.
When I finally make it through a date like this, I come home crying that I am so attracted to this guy and he probably hates me because I’m such a retard. I call my friend, and that is when she comforts me. “It sound like you really like this guy.” And she is right. Which is what makes my fumbles hurt even more.
In the end, though, I realize the mask I put on for the guy I don’t like very much – the one where I am perfect and witty and charming – is not the real me. And the person I show off to the guy I really like – the vulnerable, sweet and hopelessly in love – is the real me in love. It is my brain on love, and there is not a damn thing I can do to change it. The only saving grace is that this works both ways. When you have the clumsiest, most awkward date of your life, don’t run away because of what a retard you were….hold on, because this just may be the one.