Now that I have poked my big toe back into dating pool to test the waters, I have just one reaction.
I hate dating.
There I’ve said it.
I mean I reeeeaaaaallllllyyyyy hate it.
I never was very good at it. And, unlike a fine wine, it hasn’t gotten any better with age.
The whole process is nerve-wracking. I meet someone. We chat on-line. We text all day. We talk for hours on the phone. I am witty. I am charming. Everything in going swimmingly. Everything is clicking. We decide to meet in person.
The big day arrives. We text about how nervous we are. How excited.
And it goes beautifully. I am witty. I am charming.
“You are so amazing! Why are you still single?,” I am asked.
“Such a good question,” I reply as I flash my brightest smile.
The evening ends. Things feel kinda good. My head is above water. I’ve learned to not get my hopes up, but…
Discussions about meeting again. We try to work around kid schedules.
Texts start to get farther and farther apart.
And eventually nothing.
And I know I am about to have to go through this all over again.
This is my cycle.
And frankly it makes me want to get as far away from the dating pool as possible.
It is exhausting to have to go through it over and over and over again. My psyche is blue and shivering, longing for a thick warm towel to wrap around my shoulders.
I know several people who do not know how to swim, and don’t care to learn. So, they just avoid any situation where they might be surrounded by water.
So, to continue my metaphor, perhaps I should just remove myself from the pool. Get far far away. After all, I can’t drown in the dating pool if I don’t get in. But, I am not sure that is how I want to live my life.
I’ve already learned to ease my way into the water. I no longer cannonball off the edge.
Maybe it’s just that I have forgotten how to swim and I need to put back on my floaties. Or, get a swim instructor. Or find a new pool.
Because right now, I hate dating.
Really I do.