I had dinner with L, the first time I had seen him since November (and all of my message shenanigans).
The initial plan was to go to a movie, but he worked late. I asked him if I could meet him for dinner and so we did.
It was somewhat awkward. I felt sheepish for my behavior, though it wasn’t spoken of. It did not help that he received a call (unanswered) from a “Jess,” the company line reading “OKC.” In fairness, I had disclosed the whole situation with the non-pussy-eating guy to him last week.
Dinner was nice. By the end of the meal, things were easier. Maybe.
He’s having regrets about moving here. His job is overwhelming. It’s a lot to handle. I know – I’ve done it.
We walked out the door.
“I feel like the shell of a man,” L said.
I think he was trying to explain why he can’t meaningfully date me right now. I think he started to say something about wanting more. I forgot to ask him what he meant by meaningfully date.
“Well, the shell still looks quite good,” I said.
We walked to my car. I told him I had something for him. I reached into my car and pulled out an ice scraper – one of the long-handled ones with the scraper on one end and a brush on the other. I had tied a tiny bow around it.
“Welcome to Ohio,” I said as I presented it to him. “I figured you’d appreciate a utilitarian present.”
He was sick, so we didn’t kiss, but we did embrace a few times and did kisses on the cheek.
I wish we could have talked more – I was finally starting to feel like myself – but we were standing outside in the cold and I could tell he was getting chilled.
And then we went our separate ways.
Later, I decided to resurrect my OKCupid account. The last time I used it was Fall 2015.
In searching, of course he came up. And we were a 96% match. When I answered the questions he had answered but I hadn’t, the match percentage went up to 99%.
I am well aware of how the algorithms are funky. But I also really liked his profile. It’s him.
… So I sent him a message.
His “you should message me if” section said he should be messages “if you ask questions.”
I asked him a question.
… And he viewed my profile and read my message.
Then I sent a text saying I hope he didn’t think it was creepy.
No response to anything yet.
I may have crossed a line. I don’t know.
It likely doesn’t matter. He isn’t comfortable here.
I need to move on. My being hung up on him isn’t doing me any good, really. At the very least I need to let go, let him come to me, and stop seeking him out.