Instalment number 2 is sad. Sad, sad, saaaaaaaaaaad. It all started so promisingly as well. So, as you’re aware, my first tinder experience was a bit shocking to say the least. There was a fair amount of time in between tinder date #1 and tinder date #2 and this time, I was going to put in the hard work first to make sure he wasn’t mental. So, I start speaking to this nice fella. He kinda reminded me a little of Ryan Gosling. Tall and blonde with that typical R.G. expression on his face. A half smile that looks like it could mean “hey girl, can I give you a foot rub and feed you chocolate while you watch The Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt on Netflix?” We talked for weeks and weeks. He was smart, endearing but above all, he was funny. He was also consistent so I took the plunge and asked him for a drink. This time, I wasn’t taking any chances. I asked him to meet me at pub in the city where meals didn’t cost $80.
He turned up, looked just like his picture and was just as cute and witty as our online conversations! SHOCK HORROR. This guy was actually pretty awesome. We moved from the pub to a restaurant and had dinner while he made me laugh and I made him laugh and for a while there it felt like we were the only two people in the whole venue. We chatted and laughed about anything and everything and when the waiter came over to tell us the place was closing, I couldn’t believe we’d just talked away the last four hours. So here came a pretty pivotal moment. What do I do? I have a pretty firm three date rule but he was telling me he’d be away for three weeks and that he was more than happy to wait to see me again. Single gal porn. Ryan Gosling is like “Hey Girl…You’re awesome, I will be patient and wait, no pressure to get into your pants, can I buy you an icecream?” Here’s the part my family members can stop reading. I decided I didn’t want the night to end so I just chucked it out there and asked him if he wanted to come and have a drink at my place. You get that the sex part is implied but not actually mentioned, right?
Anyway, he agreed and we got in a cab and headed to my empty apartment. I was kinda nervous since it had been a while but he was just so warm and genuine, I couldn’t really see anything going wrong. We got to my door and I put the key in the lock and I hear this weird noise. I turned around and he had tears in his eyes trying really hard not to loose his shit. OH…. HOLY…..FUCK. I’m like “omg Ryan Gosling are you ok?!!!!!” He slumped his shoulders and looked at the floor and started to cry hysterically. I’m frantically trying to open the door and usher him inside because I didn’t want my neighbours to think I was being strangled, which is kinda what it sounded like. I put him on the couch and sat next to him and held him until he could speak. Cue me being the BIGGGGGGEST arsehole in history. He told me (and I won’t go into specific details, you can fill in the blanks) that something bad happened to him when he was young and as a result, had never been intimate with anyone before. Fuuuuuuuck. I tried to explain that by “drink” I mean a drink and didn’t want to put any undue pressure on him, which was technically not what I meant but again, felt like the biggest arsehole ever…. So, the night ended up in me just holding on the couch him while he cried himself to sleep. Literally.
In the morning, still wracked with guilt, I bought him breakfast and we kept chatting as I drove him home. Decidedly more awkward than the previous night but still kinda nice. He leaned over to me and thanked me for my understanding and told me that I was a great girl before he kissed me on the cheek and hopped out of the car. As I was driving home he messaged me. It went something like this “I can see myself falling in love with, if you can’t give me a commitment now to be my girlfriend, I don’t want to see you anymore because I can see you breaking my heart.” Nothing he said since the minute I met him scared me, except for that. After one date and one completely failed sexual encounter? He’s chucking about the L word?? I was practically a stranger. Maybe it was my inner commitment phobe that got the better of me or the immense pressure I would have to feel IF something happened in the future but I couldn’t deal so I deleted his number.