A (very) short dating history, part 2

The second (and last) date I went on was thankfully much less eventful than the one with Stalker Guy. He was another one from the dating agency. I can’t actually remember who contacted who, but we agreed to meet in a large town nearby, during the day. I travelled by train and met him at the railway station. I wasn’t taking any chances that we might end up alone together, or that he might find out where I lived.

We recognised each other at the station then made our way to the centre of town. We stopped for a while in a coffee shop, and then walked in the sun for a while. We talked and there weren’t too many awkward silences, but I felt no spark and wasn’t particularly feeling that I wanted to get to know him better.

And one thing he talked about made me feel even more that he wasn’t for me. He mentioned that he enjoyed playing computer games, which I have no problem with. I admit I’m a bit of a Luddite when it comes to modern technology, and I’ve never actually owned a games console, but I have friends who do and I find it fun to spend the odd hour or two playing on a Wii or Playstation with them.

Trouble is this guy wasn’t talking about sociable, fun evenings with friends. He was talking about sitting at home for days on end, alone, playing one particular game for most of his waking hours. It sounded as if he spent most of his days off from work in that way.

I just couldn’t see myself dating someone who spent his free time doing that. I may not have the most exciting of social lives, and I’m not the extroverted type who has to be out and seeing people every evening, but I do like to get out of the house and talk to other human beings once in a while, maybe go for a drink, have dinner. I did wonder if I was maybe being too quick to judge, and that maybe he would reduce the gaming if he started dating, but it wasn’t as if I’d started out thinking he was wonderful and then been put off by the gaming. It was just something else to add to the cons list.

After a couple of hours we made our way back to the station, with me getting more nervous the nearer we got about whether he might try to kiss me. He didn’t. I breathed a sigh of relief. We said goodbye and vaguely said we’d contact each other, but neither of us did. So, an unsuccessful date, but not horrible, or creepy, or scary.

I had a couple of other phone calls from dating agency men, but had virtually nothing in common with them (I have no idea what they matched us on). For the rest of the year I was sent details of my matches but I just didn’t feel confident enough to contact any of them – I think I’d used up all my confidence stores on the first two. Plus I was so disappointed in the ones I’d met or spoken to so far that I was pretty pessimistic about meeting anyone better.

Since then there have been a couple of guys I’ve been interested in. One, I’ve mentioned a few times already, the other was a previous work colleague (which seems to be the only place I meet men I’m attracted to) and looking back although I found him attractive I don’t think that ultimately I was that into him in other ways.

And currently? There is someone that I think I might sort of like. I haven’t mentioned it to any of my friends, and I haven’t really admitted it to myself yet, because I’m not completely sure of how I feel. Also I’m fairly convinced already that he’s not interested, so I don’t know whether there is much point admitting it...

Signals? What signals?

Okay, so the first thing that I’ve been thinking about recently is how bad I am at reading signals that mean a man might be interested. I just can’t tell when someone might be attracted to me. I hear other women mention that a guy (who hasn’t asked them out) likes them and I don’t have a clue how they know (if anyone out there has the answer please do tell).

My cluelessness in this area has often resulted in me finding myself in one of two situations: the first is that if I like someone I spend many, many hours analysing every little thing he says and does, trying to work out if any of them are “signals” that he likes me.

The second is that if I’m not interested in someone and he says or does something which possibly, tenuously, if the planets were aligned in exactly the right way and there was a blue moon, might be a signal, I tend to worry that he is most definitely interested and start panicking a little about how to ensure he doesn’t get the wrong idea and try something.

The first situation I think I am unlikely to find myself in again after the whole “A” saga. I hope that I’ve learned not to waste that much time and energy on analysing and wondering again. A few weeks or a month or two maybe, to give me time to try to give my own signals and him time to get over any lack of confidence and to get round to asking me out, but a year? Never again, I hope.

The second situation is one which, whenever I find myself in it, makes me feel as if I haven’t progressed much beyond my teens. I have a work colleague who I am in exactly that situation with at the moment. He hasn’t done much at all. He used a social networking site to virtually “smile” at me, in secret, so none of my other friends could see, and he replied to a couple of emails I sent to the whole department about Christmas-related things in a slightly too friendly sort of way, considering we’re not friends (or so it seemed to me).

I’m now worried that he’s interested and that he might try to do something radical like ask me out or something. Of course that leads to the worry that I wouldn’t know how to handle that. How do you turn someone down without hurting their feelings?

I am well aware that I am putting 2 and 2 together and coming up with 105 here, and that I’m jumping to conclusions that aren’t actually there. In all probability he's just being friendly. Really, at my age I should have learnt to be a little more rational, and I certainly should have got past panicking because I suspect someone might like me.

Maybe it’s another just another thing I do because it’s “safe”, similar to liking unavailable men, which Ecrivain talked about in this post. Maybe I don’t see the signals from the men I’m interested in because if I don’t realise they like me it’s not going to go anywhere. And maybe I notice very minor signals (or see signals where there aren’t really any) from men I’m not interested in because even if I think they like me it’s not going to go anywhere.

A surprisingly short post

Work has been a little busy this past week and I’ve just spent a couple of days visiting a friend, which has meant that I haven’t had much chance to write, and I’ve been surprised to find that I’ve missed it.

When I started this I wasn’t sure how it would go, how easy or difficult I would find writing posts, whether I would be able to keep it up or whether I would want to keep it up. I don’t consider myself to be a natural writer: I wrote essays for my degree and in pre-email days I used to write lengthy letters to friends, but I’m not someone who has devoted time to writing for myself, outside of work or study.

This past week though, away from the computer, I have had a few things I’ve been thinking about which I have found myself wanting to write about. I suspect it’s the therapeutic side of things that I’ve missed. I wasn’t entirely convinced that writing a blog could actually provide that (although I hoped it could of course), but I think it does, for me at least.

And I think that I’m finding writing out fears, stories, feelings, facts that hardly anyone else knows, for potentially all the world to read (even if only a handful of people actually do) quite liberating. That may be why a lot of my posts so far have been quite long...

Anyway, time is still short, so the things I've had on my mind will have to wait a couple more days.

A (very) short dating history, part 1

I am feeling somewhat less ranty now and haven't had too bad a weekend so far. I kept myself occupied on Saturday by attempting to shop for Christmas presents, and have spent time on my job application today.

Anyway, as I'm in the mood for writing and there is for once nothing I'm feeling particularly sad, annoyed, fed-up etc about I thought I'd start telling you about my dating history. It won't take long, as I have only been on two actual dates in my life. Both were a few years ago and resulted from me joining a dating agency. This was in the days before online dating took off and entailed me filling in a paper questionnaire asking all about me, my education, my job, my politics, my religion, my appearance, my "hobbies and interests" and what I was looking for in a man.

The all about me bit was quite easy. The what I'm looking for in a man, less so. If I've never had a boyfriend, how do I know what sort of qualities I would want in one? I came up with something and the agency then plugged all of that information into a computer and matched me with various men whose details they sent to me. From the first lot of matches I received I only really liked the sound of one guy. I'll call him Stalker Guy, for reasons which will become clear. They gave me his name, phone number and address, so me being me, I wrote him a letter. Yup, that's right, a proper old-fashioned letter, handwritten in pen, on actual paper, folded into an envelope and put into the post-box. I just couldn't face phoning a complete stranger and trying to hold a conversation.

I had put my phone number on the letter and he called quite soon. I surprised myself by managing to speak back to him and we arranged to meet in a bar the following week. In case we couldn't find each other I told him what car I drove, which turned out later to have been a big mistake.

We met, had a drink, asked each other questions and talked. It wasn't a horrible evening but neither was it wonderful. There were no sparks, not much laughter and I just didn't click with him. I would probably describe it "okay". I didn't think I really wanted to see him again, but thought if he asked I would say yes, just so I had given things a proper chance. We left the bar and as we walked to our cars I realised that he had parked next to mine. He then tried, a little too keenly I felt, to get me to go back to his for coffee. The conversation proceeded thus:

Stalker Guy: Would you like to come back to my place for coffee?

Did he really just ask me that? Does he mean coffee or something more? How do you know if it means something more? I've only just met him, no waaay am I going back for coffee.

Me: No thanks, I have to be up early for work tomorrow.

Stalker Guy: You don't have to stay late.

Me: No, really, I do have to get up early for work, and I'm quite tired.

Stalker Guy: Go on, just come back for one coffee.

He's being a little too pushy, I'm not sure I like this. Why can't he just take no for an answer?

Me: I'm sorry I really can't, I am really tired.

I get into my car.

Stalker Guy: So when can I see you again?

I really don't want to see him again...but I can't just tell him that can I?

Me: Erm, I'm quite busy the next couple of weeks, I'll give you a call. (I can't just drive off now, that would be rude. What else can I say?) Or I could email you? What's your email address?

He gets a pen and piece of paper, writes something on it and hands it to me through the car window. It's illegible.

Me: I can't quite read it, what's that letter?

He walks round to the other side of the car, opens the door and gets in.

Crap, why did I not lock the door?

He takes the piece of paper off me and tells me what it says. And then, completely out of the blue, with no warning or build up, he leans over (actually probably better described as he launches himself at me) and kisses me. And not a nice, exploratory, do-you-want-to-kiss-me-back sort of kiss (obviously I'm imagining here how a kiss might start). No, he went straight for the full on, tongue and everything kiss. I was stunned. Oh dear God he's kissing me....I should kiss him back.. but I'm not sure how. I make a vague effort to join in with the kiss. I'm not actually enjoying this. At all. It feels pretty horrible...I want it to stop... How do I make him stop? I stop trying to kiss him back and manage to pull away from him. He makes a few comments about how pretty my hair is while stroking it. I feel slightly sick. I tell him again that I really need to go home. All the time I'm wondering what the hell I do if he won't get out of my car. Luckily he does. I say goodbye and drive off, going in the opposite direction from home.

I drove to a very public car park, stopped the car and cried. I then called my best friend and told her all about it. I think what I was most upset about was that he had ruined my first kiss, by making it so awful. She calmed me down and I eventually went home.

Over the next few days I got numerous texts and a few lengthy voicemails from him, saying what a lovely time he'd had, how much he liked me and how he hoped to see me again soon. Either he hadn't noticed the lack of spark and that I had hated the kiss, or for some reason he still thought he might get me into bed. If only he knew.....I ignored him for a while then finally sent a text saying I'd had a nice time but that I didn't feel that we were right for each other. That night I was woken by a strange text from him and when I went out to my car later the next day I found it had been vandalised. It was obviously him. I remembered that I had mentioned the area I lived in, and of course he knew what car I owned. I reported it to the police and gave them his name and asked my flatmates to be careful who they let into the flat. I couldn't sleep properly for the next couple of weeks but I heard nothing more from him.

So all in all, it was pretty disastrous first ever date. At the time it felt pretty traumatic, but looking back and having heard and read about other women's dating experiences, it seems like just a particularly bad date (except for the vandalised car part of the tale).

For a while I was upset and angry and disappointed and disillusioned, but I made myself contact someone else from my list of matches. I knew I needed to try again, to go on another date to prove to myself that not all men were going to turn crazy on me. And that date, although also unsuccessful, was thankfully, much less eventful.

The Friday afternoon question

You know one thing I really hate about Fridays at work? It’s that moment towards the end of the afternoon when a colleague pipes up “so what’s everyone doing at the weekend?” in such an enthusiastic manner that you just feel she’s only asking so she can proceed to tell you all about what exciting things she and her boyfriend will be doing.

Do you know what colleague? I don’t want to know what you’re doing this weekend. I don’t want to hear about the party you’re going to or your trip to the theatre. I don’t want to listen to the long list of what you have planned.
Hearing it reminds me of what I wish I was doing and of what I assume everyone else but me is doing (even though I know they’re probably not).

So I don’t want to know. If I did, I would have asked you. But as I didn’t ask, please don’t insist on telling me.

And I don’t want to tell you that I’m not really doing anything. I don’t want you to know that I have no party to go to. I don’t want to say that my list of plans mostly consists of sitting around alone in front of the TV.

Verbalising it reminds me of how it will be and somehow makes it more real. By the same token if I don’t say it out loud, maybe it won’t happen. I know that doesn’t make any sense. What it boils down to though is: I don’t want to tell you, so please don’t ask.

She is in essence a nice person and I wish she hadn’t brought on this little rant. I feel I’m being horrible and bitter. It’s just that I hate, hate, hate that damn question.

In the eyes of others

I finally got around to meeting up for a drink with Sociable Guy. We had quite a pleasant evening, and a quiet one by his standards – just me, him, his new girlfriend and one of my work colleagues who also knows Sociable Guy.

It was interesting to meet the new girlfriend. She seemed a little quirky, as is he, and appears to have led an unbelievably fascinating life so far; she’s travelled, done charity work, “lived her dream” on another continent. Oh, and been married and divorced. She must be around my age so I did feel somewhat inadequate and just a touch boring compared to her. She’s done so many things I’d love to do but for whatever reason haven’t.

I did have some minor news of my own in that I am in the process of applying for new job. I’m not sure whether I’m likely to get an interview, or even whether I really want the job, but it feels like one small hurdle crossed in the attempt to change my life. I have actually, properly, started a job application and if I can do it once I can do it again.

My work colleague made a bit of a random comment when I mentioned the job application. He said maybe I’d find a man if I end up moving to the new job (it’s in a different town), because after all I haven’t met one in x years in this town and workplace. He said it in a well meaning way (although it was nothing like the encouraging comments I get from Sociable Guy), but it did give me a little insight into how others might see me.

I’ve never thought of myself as the sad, older, single woman at my workplace, even thought I am the only older, single woman there and even though sad, older and single is pretty much how I think of myself outside the context of work. At work I’m just me who sits in such and such an office, doing such and such a job, and who is someone most people know or know of.

But my work colleague obviously sees me as a single woman who hasn’t managed to find a man in x years. Does he have an opinion on why I’m still single? Does he think I can find someone? Does he think I’m a lost cause? Was he just being polite when he said maybe I’d find a man? Do other people share his view? Do they judge me as a person because I have failed to have a relationship since they’ve known me? Do people feel sorry for me?

Part of me wants to know the answers to those questions, but most of me doesn’t. If the answers are positive I’ll just think the same as I have for the past 10 years, that is, that they’re lying. If they’re negative, well, I have more than enough negative opinions of my own already. I really don’t need to know that everyone else agrees.

A mutual lack of understanding

I saw my friend T (she of the relationship with the married man) on Friday. I told her about E and A moving in together and how it had made me feel. I used to speak to her quite a lot about my feelings for and attraction to A, before he and E started dating.

Anyway, on Friday she said all the “right” things: that it had been his loss, that I was too good for him, that it didn’t happen because there someone better out there for me (Yeah right. Where the hell has he got to then?). She also said she sort of understood how I had felt because she’d felt something similar about her married guy going home to his wife each evening and ultimately choosing his wife over her.

But she doesn’t really, truly understand, whether it’s about A or about my (lack of) love life in general. She’s had boyfriends. She’s had sex. She may have been rejected but she has also been wanted and been loved. She knows that she can attract men. She knows that she is capable of forming a relationship. She’s got over the hurdle of losing her virginity.

She isn’t afraid that the rejection means that there is something fundamentally wrong with her. She doesn’t wonder why it is that, as well as A, nobody else has ever wanted her either. She doesn’t think that maybe she’s just too unattractive. She isn’t worried that starting to date a man will mean having to tell him she is a virgin. She doesn’t know what it’s like to want to be in a relationship, but at the same time to be terrified of starting a relationship because all the “firsts” it would entail make it seem an enormous leap. She doesn’t feel like a naive teenager.

She doesn’t know that I’m a virgin and have never had a boyfriend, so she believes that she really does understand.

In return, I don’t really understand things that go on in her life. Her potential relationship with the much older guy hasn’t developed into anything yet and she is unsure what’s going on and confused by the way he’s acting. She told me all about it and obviously wanted some advice, which I tried to give her, but really I have no idea what I’m talking about. I can’t relate to the situation she is in at all. My advice tends to be just what I think would be the sensible thing to do, but it isn’t taken from any personal experience whatsoever.

And because she doesn’t know that I’m a virgin and have never had a boyfriend, she believes that I really do understand.

I’ve never really questioned what, if anything, this mutual lack of understanding means for our friendship. Yes, there are things she doesn’t know about me. But she cares about me and I care about her. She wants me to be happy. She can still give me advice, even without fully understanding. She seems to want and value my advice (although she doesn’t always listen to it), so it seems me not fully understanding doesn’t really matter either.

It would be nice to open up and be honest with her about my virginity because it does feel occasionally as if I’m lying to her, but weighing it all up, I don’t think it is essential for her to know. My best friend knows and it feels right that she does. But in general if my other friends wouldn’t understand or be able to relate to it, for the moment I don’t think they need to know and I don’t want them to know. One day I may be ready to tell more of my friends and even to talk about it with them. Right now, I’m okay with knowing that there are others out there in the blogosphere who do get it and do understand.