I decided to write about the first time that I laid eyes on him; it was full of mystery. His eyes were dark but they were not shiny. They were filled with curiosity and interesting ideas about me that I had not known about yet. Not dull but filled with content that I was similar if not identical to my photo that he had seen. This was our first date. We had met through an online dating app, popular with the hipsters, musicians, avant-garde art history majors at rich elite schools. Oh, there were lawyers, brokers, financial analysts and medical students who didn’t need sleep but ran off on their testosterone levels and caffeinated congregations; it was filled with men up to your imagination. Indeed, the whole nine yards and back. All in all, I chose him.
Cafe Desire. Let’s attach an innuendo for the sake of my story. We scheduled to meet at the cafe at around 4 o’clock. I remember the way he abruptly texted me after work. Back then, he worked a 9-5 and now he works from 5-9 at night (another story, I promise). “I’m here,” the text buzzed. Shit, I must’ve walked past the cafe. It was on the other block and I rushed through traffic to get a distance view of this dark hair novela star look-alike. It was so exciting to imagine meeting the man who was so handsome that I could watch him breathe and probably fall in love. I did, I had already fallen in love with the sight of him. His profile photos.
“I’m here, I walked to the ba-” I looked up and there he was. Tall, broad shouldered, chest hair sticking out of his black collar polo. He was 6 ft and above, baseball cap on his head, soft black curly hair, and thick THICK brows with a perfect beard. I thought I was dreaming… he was so maturely handsome. I was 5 ft 6, petite and wore dress pants from my part time job as an assistant. I looked like a 13 year old pretending to be an adult. He didn’t seem to mind. He checked me out when he let me walk in front of him. I know. I could feel his eyes wandering when I walked hehehe. I leaned in for a hug and he smelled so damn good. He wore the same scent, the day that we broke off and went our separate ways.
Our conversations brought out the best of our personalities. Sad to say, if it had just shown him how strong and naive I was, perhaps we’d would’ve went our seperate ways. I was talkative, animated, energetic, bubbly, impatient, angry, moody, logical, confident, held high standards…. he was passionate, passive, listener, shy, soft, kind, whimsical, egotistic and open-minded… did I say passionate already?? It was his ploy to turn around and make very little of our times together since I fell deeply for him.
There were frequent texts exchanges between us. We did not infrequently see one another because I did not want any suspicion from my parents. The first night that I slept over was on my birthday. It was honestly, the best way to spend my birthday with a man who really made me feel so appreciated and happy. We had Mexican food; we ate it on his bed while watching online movies. He didn’t have Netflix – he was very selective with his money spending choices. He didn’t see the point in spending it on things that had an free alternative. That actually bothered me a bit. I don’t like a man who cannot see the issue of being too sparing and holding his money so tightly; I don’t particularly like men who use coupons or are too frugal. I mean, like, that’s my job. (My mother use to say, if a man is extremely nit picky with how he spends money, he will most likely be extremely cheap in treating you). It’s a major turnoff.
I never caught on to it. I always thought it was because he needed a better job that paid more. But as time went by, he never took me out for dinner. He never called to say he made reservations or planned a trip for us. He never invited me to go anywhere with him. We had breakfast and brunch as part of the sleepover routine but our late night conversations were filled with so much real talk. I loved to have conversations with people; deep enriching convos that you could not have with people in your 9-5 jobs or at classes. Conversations that could only open up to become what I thought was the best couple of hours in a week. He was critical of our people’s appearances and so was I. But when he happened to put on a few pounds, I knew I couldn’t put on any weight. I would feel deeply unattractive if I had eaten before we had met. I didn’t want to weigh any more than I did after a midday fast; I always wanted to be the best and have the more interesting stories to have our discussions. Sometimes, I feel as if I should’ve never texted him after he was in a relationship for a couple of months. I never felt so foolish in my life. I did it because not only was I emotionally attached to him. I was also too gullible to believe that he would not date me as a long term companion. His relationships did not last long, as I can see now he does not date for the long term. He had so many secrets but he was so open about his failed engagement, his lack of ability to deal with pressure and conventional standards about sex without commitment, his disinterest in feelings and emotions, he was so closed off to letting anyone into his mind that he was afraid he would break into a million pieces if that person had left him, first.
That was the issue. He could tug on my heartstrings but I felt hopeless tugging at his. There was only a fall out each time. He was honest, I was naive but not honest about my feelings. I never showed him the side of me that needed to be saved. It seemed as if I had all that I could ever want because I ALWAYS showed him the best side of me.
to be continued…