Sexy Times- Totally Not Depressing…

I always tell people that red flags are usually glaringly obvious and present from the get-go. We just get so excited about a new person- or they’re just SO obvious- that we tend to look the other way.  Not me, though. I’ve totally learned my lesson...

NOT.

Before Our First Date: Red Flags Don’t Matter Yet

I was excited to match with Mexico because, well, he was a creative person and I just knew we would have lots in common and plenty to discuss. When we hopped on a video call I felt super calm and casual. As suspected the conversation flowed and he wasn’t appalling so I was willing to continue to an in-person, socially distanced hang.

He was living with his parents, which I didn’t look at as a red flag because he offered a reasonable explanation. He was going to move to Mexico for a project, but it was on hold because of Covid-19. Now, he was “waiting to figure it out.”

At this point it didn’t catch my attention because there was no attraction yet. Just an interesting human I thought would make a good friend.

After that video chat he kind of vanished, anyway. Again, I paid little mind to it, because, eh, whatever. About a month later he reappeared, apologizing for his absence. We scheduled a casual first date.

Our First Date: But Is It Reeeaalllyyy A Red Flag?

He took me to Lagniappe, a trendy wine bar (where I am presently writing and recollecting our tryst) and we shared a bottle of wine and some snacks on their garden patio. As the night went on, I could feel my attraction towards him growing. I don’t mean to be like this, but the more he spoke the more attractive he became. I was like, “Hey baby, I love the words you say.” And All that.

More than that, he really listened and seemed interested in what I had to say. ;;;butterflies;;;

I’m not entirely sure how it came up, because good wine does its job well, but we jumped into relationship history pretty quickly. Maybe we started by talking about our luck with online dating. He prefaced a story with, “The last girl I went on a date with told me I should never tell this story on a first date again…”

Obviously he had to tell me. He knew that as much as I knew that.

I won’t go into too much detail. It was a beautifully (and annoyingly) romantic story that led to them marrying abroad on date two.

Mmm hmm. You heard me right.

To most women who are maybe more traditional or just less crazy than me, this story would have screamed RED FLAG BITCH! TURN BACK! But I’m a romantic and if this bitch thought he was good enough to marry then why shouldn’t I? And also, when are we leaving the country and getting married?!!

COME BACK NEXT TUESDAY to read what I learned about talking past relationship on dates.

Eventually, a more essential conversation came to surface. He mentioned he was probably moving, with or without this series.

I tried to remain casual as I inquired, “So… what are you looking for then?”

He disclosed that while he was open to “whatever,” he was not in a position to make a commitment to someone since his life was so up in the air.

It was the drop in my stomach that indicated I had, in fact, become quite smitten with the weirdo across the table from me. Well, to be totally transparent because obviously that’s what I do because I can’t help myself, I couldn’t say for sure whether the fact that I couldn’t have him increased my desire for him, or whether the drop was truly a reflection of feelings that had already been developing. Because, you know, we’re all just a little bit fucked up, right??

I was equally honest about what I was looking for: I wanted to smother someone with my love and affection, but I don’t think I used those words exactly.

Satisfied that we had stated our wants and needs, we continued our evening. By the end of it, we were making big plans for a second date.

Date Two: Spoiler Alert… It Didn’t Happen

After our first date I played it cool… but was super stoked when he texted me the next morning saying I appeared in his dream. I believe he appeared in my dream as well, although I think he took the form of my boss, which led to a very confusing next couple of days at work.

Either way, the following day I would occasionally think about him and get butterflies. It was a lovely feeling.

I was a bit impatient planning our second date- or was he dragging his feet? But finally he made a reservation and everything and then gaddamnit I had a cold, so we pushed it back and then gaddamnit, gaddamnit! I was SO looking forward to our date, a full week after our first and… he canceled.

He canceled two hours before. You know, after I spent the day thinking about what I was going to wear, and trying to contain my excitement, and fantasizing about the details and all that good stuff.

Just like the first time, he had a good reason. I swear it. But… still.

I was a wee bit pissed, and then my friends all told me that my response to his canceling sounded “bitter” so I tried to play it cool and be understanding. He texted me a few days later apologizing again.

He asked if I still wanted to get together when he got back in town. I did, but at that point I was determined to keep my excitement to a minimum. It sucked, but it gave me time to really calm down and keep my head on my shoulders. To remember, to wonder… did he really say he was moving to Mexico? I know he knows what I am looking for, but I also know what he’s looking for… but who is willing to fold?

Date Two: It Actually Happened and I Actually Ignored The Red Flags

By the time it actually happened, I came into it with a much more skeptical eye. He explained in more detail why he went out of town. I was happy because, even though I told him the explanation wasn’t necessary, IT WAS FUCKING NECESSARY!

Mexico came up again but this time it was more concrete than it had been previously. He was planning on March. There was a date.

On date two, we were forced to revisit the question, “What are you looking for?”

I said, “I know we both stated what we want but once each person states their case it feels like the other person’s responsibility to meet our needs, so I want to clarify what you’re open to.”

I was blunt of course. The the logistics of moving to Mexico wasn’t necessarily a deal breaker. It was more what someone was open to emotionally. He said he really just couldn’t give me an answer. (Understandable, we didn’t know each other enough for the conversation we were having. Yet we were having it.) But he remained open, and I guess that was enough for me. 

I held my head on my shoulders for the better part of dinner, but by the time we went to the bar I was back to “completely smitten” status.

I still couldn’t quite gauge his feelings. Even though I got the sense that he was equally into me, his physicality suggested otherwise. I think he could tell because I asked him questions, like, “What is your impression of me?” And, “Are you pretty reserved with physical contact?” He confessed he was shy…

But then he grabbed me and kissed me.

(Quick note: I believe that my desperate pre-kiss questions counted as enthusiastic consent to a kiss, but if you’re not super sure about whether someone wants you to kiss them, try and get their permission, verbally or otherwise, before making a bold move.) 

Back to it. Eh hem. Ladies and gentleman, it was real hot and sexy and soft and like, the best. I had been worried because, to be honest, he was a little nerdy and shy and I wasn’t sure he would deliver… and kissing can so easily ruin the attraction, what with stenches and teeth and stuff.

But no. It was real hot and sexy and soft and like, the best. (And while we’re at it, neutral tasting/smelling.  

I’m not a fan of PDA but we made out twice more in public.

He drove me home and parked in the alley outside my apartment. We enjoyed some slightly less PDA hardcore making out and things got heated, and he almost came up to my apartment, but we decided to wait. The anticipation was exciting, albeit, a little painful!

Date Three: A Little Anti-Climactic

Our third date wasn’t REALLY a third date, since he just came over the next night, but the anticipation after our make out session was palpable. In fact, if I could go back in time and change one thing, I would have been even more patient and put off the third date a little longer. It was an enjoyable yearning, and perhaps the moment would have felt more “right.”

I was a bit nervous, so with the encouragement of my roommate, I drank some… vodka. You know. Just vodka. But oops! I drank lots of Vodka!

He came over and, as excited as I was, the circumstances felt a bit off. My roommate was home with a friend, which meant the sex was going to have to be a bit, erm, quieter than I would have preferred. Besides, my roommate is very sexy and I was feeling insecure because, you know, I liked the guy. It was just a bit off.

My roommate’s friend asked him if he lives in Miami, and his quick response was, “I’m on the way out.”

For some reason it felt embarrassing. We had discussed it, of course, but to hear him say it like that to a stranger… it felt almost like he was deliberately trying to remind me that this was a no-possibility relationship.

Things were fine. We had sex but I was pretty in my head. Still, there were moments that still make my stomach leap when I recollect. I made an effort to stifle my moans, I worried about my body. I was a bit too drunk to have an orgasm but was satisfied when he did.

That night we talked again. Full disclosure, I don’t remember exactly what was said. We talked all night about so much, but I was drunk and tired and most of our conversation is a blur.

What I do remember is making some major decisions about our “relationship,” which I’m pretty sure led to us deciding to take a step back? I think I said something like, him moving to Mexico would definitely be a problem. Getting emotionally invested in someone I would have to say goodbye to was a bad idea. It also made me feel more insecure than necessary.

Despite the fact that I completely understand intellectually the reality of the situation, it still felt like if we wound up liking each other a lot, we could work something out if we both wanted to. But, it didn’t feel that way. It felt like every time he mentioned it, he was rejecting me personally. Like, the fact that he wasn’t trying to make things work anyway was insulting.

He woke up early the next morning and left right away, and I tried not to take it personally. My disappointment subsided when he asked if I would be around later. He said he might stop by after taking care of some errands. He didn’t.

Maybe it wouldn’t have bothered me but at that point I was at my most vulnerable and already feeling sad and rejected.

The After Math

The next few days were tough. The weather was shitty. I felt like things were over before they even began. After talking to my friends, they all said the same thing. When it came down to it, I should leave it, because even without the little things here and there that felt like he was pushing me away, he was going to Mexico.

I was gearing up to say nothing, or end things. My heart was sad.

Then things got all shook up when I went home to my parent’s for the night and my mom, who has accused ME of being too idealistic said, “Who cares if he’s moving to Mexico? You should still get to know him. You never know what could happen.” The real surprise was when my sister and brother-in-law and dad agreed with my mom. I thought for sure they would take the side of “FUCK THAT, RUN.”

My mentality started to shift yet again. I had a glimmer of optimism as I realized how much my overthinking was getting in the way of me getting to know a cool person. But… was it too late? My vodka soaked memory flashed a warning sign as I tried to remember the details of our night together.

He reached out that night and I got excited. Maybe it was a good sign. But before he had a chance to say much, I made an attempt at plans. They didn’t happen because bla bla bla and now I’m thinking, maybe it has nothing to do with Mexico. Maybe he’s just not that into me. Or maybe it’s just Mexico? Or maybe it’s because of what I told him about Mexico? Shit. Stop overthinking!

Again the insecurities flared. He probably just wanted to be single when he moves, probably to meet some annoyingly beautiful and confident “senorita” I can already picture in my head because that’s the healthy thing I should definitely be doing right now.  

The reality is this is all premature because I don’t know him well enough yet to even care. Yet I cared. A lot.

Red Flags:

• Regardless of Mexico, I was spending more time upset and overthinking than enjoying the process of getting to know him.
• This is because he was giving me mixed signals… one minute he seemed totally into it, the next it felt like he was pushing me away, trying to show me instead of tell me that there were limits to our time together.
• It felt like I was forcing things, and if there’s anything I learned while recollected my past relationships with him, it’s that forcing things probably won’t lead to a long-lasting relationship. I was overthinking texts, worrying about if and when he would respond, wondering when the next time I would get to see him would be. If I would get to see him again…
• It was all about him, and whether I was good enough for him. I was too blinded trying to win him over that I wasn’t taking time to consider my own feelings.
• I felt super shitty that he left so early in the morning after we had sex for the first (and only) time.

Only after coming to terms with the fact that I might never see him again did I reach out with one last attempt. It was fruitless, except for temporarily erasing any desire or need to reach out again.

In the end the biggest red flag is that I spent more time worrying about whether we should be worrying about Mexico than enjoying getting to know each other. I felt his hesitation in moving forward, and honestly… I have no idea if it had to do with Mexico or me.

But also, Mexico.