I am so sick of dating. You get dressed up, fight off the nerves, and go out to a coffee shop or restaurant to meet a stranger. Then, you each go over the same old topics: interests, hobbies, work, education, and family.
If it works out, you go on more dates. You let yourself start to hope. You think, “wow, we really get along!” You hope he feels the same.
Then, you sleep with him. He’s nice, you want to, so why not? It’s fun.
A few more dates. It’s almost been two months since you met. He calls you late at night and talks with you for hours. He goes out of his way to see you in his free time. He brings you a souvenir from a trip. He even invites you to dinner with his parents. You start to wonder when you can call him your boyfriend. You tell all your friends and family you met a great guy. It’s easier than trying to keep him a secret.
Finally, it happens. He’s sitting next to you struggling to find the words to say something. Then it comes out. He’s not sure how he feels. He likes spending time with you, but he hasn’t felt that special feeling with you yet.
What the hell? You’ve got to be kidding me.
Back to the beginning.