If there was an award for jumping the gun, I’d be the USA gold medalist.
While one third of the male population struggles with premature ejaculation, I’m over here dealing with what I like to call pre-mature infatuation. I don’t know which is worse really: making sex pancakes on her stomach before she even knows you’re inside of her, or idealizing fictional futures made up in my head after just one solid first date? Although I’ve only personally dealt with one, I’m gonna assume that I’m way more exposed being the leading role in ‘Falling Too Quickly“. I mean, premature ejaculation is a compliment in my eyes. Six hours and him having to call you by his ex-girlfriend’s name is what really stings.
I’ve written like 36 dating inspired blogs without a single Al Green quote. In order to have you better understand what’s going on in my brain after he holds my hand, walks me to my car and tells me he wants to see me again, I’d like to quote a little ditty by The Reverend himself:
” I’m…I’m so in love with you. Whatever you want to do. Is all right with me. Cause you….make me feel so brand new…And I…want to spend my life with youuuu. Oooo baby, Let’s, let’s stay together”. Swear to god this is what plays in my head when I’m driving home from a date with somebody who wasn’t:
A. A social snore
B. The complete opposite BMI category of their proposed pictures.
C. Short and awkward or
D. Found me to be less than as exciting as I was on the phone.
Oh, the dangers of getting too excited after a first date. It is truly a curse. Why can’t I just step away from something so amazing and think to myself, one foot in front of the other Taryn? Baby steps. Because connections like these don’t happen often that’s why. I will be the first to admit that I go on A LOT of dates. Like way too many. Mostly because I like the companionship in a new city, not because I’m looking to be Ms. New Booty. But, because I allow myself so many connections, I’m able to categorize them based on importance. Some guy goes on one date in a year, and that’s all he has to go off of. I go on six dates in a month and I have a plethora of personalities to put into folders.
Friendship. Flirt-ship. Relationship. Soul mate status.
Its been my luck that every time I find someone so miraculously great that I could see myself actually inviting him to my place, telling my sister about him and considering him for my first positive blog, that he so instinctively jumps off the pedestal I’ve placed him on by the second date. I wish I know why this was and I think every time it happens I’m just a little bit closer to realizing it’s nobody’s fault but my own.
Sabotage. I am, without a doubt ready for a relationship. It’s been over a year and I’ve had more lessons than I could ever dream of to get me to this point. But, like the rest of the world, I’m scared. I’m scared that what I’ve let happen is what will continue to be, and that people are by nature only here to hurt me. So when it’s good, it’s to be questioned, and reassurance isn’t a thing many men are willing to coddle. So, I put it all out there and quickly. I want to know intentions and interest. While I’m over here trying to flip to the ending, my first date is still on Chapter 1: Page 2. You done fucked up, kid. Your book is burned.
Timing. A good friend of mine told me the other day that she doesn’t think I’ve met anyone great enough to date me. She said I needed a real man who can handle his own stuff and also be able to handle all of my greatness. “It takes a strong man to date a strong woman and he’s out there still working on making himself that”. She’s right. It very well could be that the guy I fell for in a matter of minutes is who I will end up with, but not right now, not in this moment. He’s not ready, and I need to learn how to be patient, not unkind. Timing is such a bitch.
Expectations. It’s ok to have a low after such an epic high. When I put so much emphasis on a man’s ability to prove all the other idiots wrong, I give him nowhere to go but down. Life isn’t all puppies and rainbows. It’s misunderstandings and insecurities. So, when our second date isn’t as good as our first it doesn’t mean that date three will be a night of living hell. It means, he’s capable of making me feel that good, and will most likely do so again.
To the man who rocked my first date world: I’m sorry I compiled a list of things I was wrong about by the end of the second time ever meeting you, and gave you plenty of reasons to do so for me. I’m sorry I let my juvenile fantasies over ride my adult-like realities. And I’m even more sorry that I’ll probably never get another shot at showing you that slow and steady really does win the race.