Tag Archives: dates

Sad tea-cups

…are those with almond milk in them instead of real milk.

Also, 5 minutes after posting my update about my friend with cancer having a smaller tumor, I got a text from her asking me to pray for her because she was in the worst pain yet. At two am, after I’d gotten two hours of sleep and inexplicably woke up, she contacted me again and we talked and she seemed to be better. I then stayed up til some crazy hour, and then woke up and had a fairly pleasant day. Knowing your friend is not as bad off as she was right before you went to bed that night has a way of making days better.

In other totally non-consequential news:

I might have gone on two dates with two different guys in the last two weeks, but nobody ever calls anything a date anymore so I really have no idea, but I kind of think one of the guys almost tried to kiss me judging by the strange pause at the end of the night just after we arrived at my car and took out my keys to leave. That would definitely put the second hang out in the “date” category, but the pause could have also simply been awkwardness. Who knows? I definitely don’t.
When you don’t go around kissing people you have no idea when you are in a kissing-people situation or not.

That’s my life.

P.S. Continued prayers for my friend are appreciated. Prayers for all totally confused young people who don’t know if they are on dates or not are also appreciated.

P.P.S. I have no idea how to balance talking about my feelings about my friend with cancer with my feelings about the rest of my life, as they are completely different segments of my life. However, the way life works is that everything just kinda gets shoved together and it is your life, and sometimes, 60-70 years later, you look back on it and maybe you see patterns, and then you write nice little uniform books about the experiences, or maybe sell the movie rights or whatever…But that doesn’t happen in the middle of the experience, when everything is happening at once and you don’t know what’s important and what’s not besides what you think about it in the moment. It is from this disjointed reality that my blog posts are born. In fifty to sixty years maybe I’ll write a book. For now you get the mess to make sense or nonsense of all on your own. Have fun!

 

 

 

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Tea date.

“How’s life?”

I’m freaked out that I’m gonna suddenly become a blind mute because of my bone disease that is super rare and I didn’t tell you about, but I probably shouldn’t be freaking out about because I’ve done pretty well so far, and I can’t remember anyone ever saying that such horrible scenarios were likely, but I stayed up til 1am looking up potential effects of my disease, and then I joined an online support group to talk to the 1 other person on the internet that I found with my condition, and like, I’m super stressed about that. Not to mention the burden of grad school and my friend with cancer….

“Oh it’s fine. How’s your life?”

—————–

Surprisingly, things didn’t go super badly after this brief, half truth I gave him in response to his question. We’re both introverts and so my lack of detailed response could have been viewed as simply that awkwardness that you still have when getting to know someone.

We spent the rest of our date (??? He paid for my Chai tea …does that make it a date?) staring at empty cups, each other, and the walls, and then speaking when sitting in silence lost its glamour.

We have the introvert thing down: You think a million thoughts, and then you choose the best one to say out loud, then you spend a good ten seconds hoping the other person will say something first.

After an immense amount of time hanging out in the coffee shop and attempting to converse, he drove me home and gave me a hug goodbye.

It’s going rather slowly…our conversations, our text messages, the rate at which we drank our drinks in the coffee shop, because if you’re not drinking something you have to be talking and that is just, so hard….but, it’s good.

I usually fall for people really fast and he’s kinda forcing me to think before I write five page poems about how obsessed I am with him. Like, he’s cute, he’s nice, he likes me, and I’m not obsessed. Things are just patiently taking their time. We’re developing a friendship. It’s good. Friendships help you talk to people more openly and tell them about things like…bone diseases…and your deepest fears. But there’s no reason to just, relay that part of yourself to someone on a first date. Or all of it.

Slow and steady wins the race, right?

I mean:

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. – 1 Corinthians 13:4-7

So, I’m just making sure we got the first part down…There’s always time for the rest.

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It was a date.

He picked me up, opened the car door for me, made reservations, paid for my meal, and dropped me back off at my house.

We might just be friends though. I don’t know. The concept of flirting is strange to me, and I kinda told him to stop doing it via texts and so he kinda stopped doing it entirely.

Plus if we date then I’ll be even more awkward and secretive when it comes to discussing my health, and I can’t handle dating people and being concerned about whether they’ll accept or reject me because I have a bone disease and OH NO, your kids might get it, or like, she might not be able to go on awesome four hour mountain hikes with you.

…I just want to be friends so that you accept me for how I am instead of only seeing what I’m not.

The horribly irony is that I want so much to be individually loved and wanted, and I keep writing poetry and songs that glorify romance, and I feel like I want it so much, but then when I come face to face with it, I’m terrified of my own faults being revealed and not being accepted for who I am once they know everything about me.

Plus there’s the whole, accepting them for who they are part.

I thought unrequited love was painful, but apparently being open in requited love can be just as tough.

Fudge.

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Hanging out

I got him to ask me out.

I knew what I was doing as I did it.

Slowly build up conversation to the point where you make a clear declaration that you hate texting.

Make declaration.

Pause and wait to see if he takes that as a hint to make a move.

Begin composing the message telling him that was his cue to invite you to hang out in real life.

Delete message as he picks up the cue and asks you what you are doing over the weekend.

Cheer with best girl friend on social media chat.

Respond to his question with some detail and shoot back the question of, “why? Did you want to ask me to hang out so we could have a real life conversation?”

Cheerfully read his response about how you took the words out of his mouth, and muse over whether you put them there in the first place.

It’s a date. I mean, it’s a hang out. We’re both too chill and our acquaintanceship is far too new to actually call it a date. I wonder if I’m supposed to call it a date. I don’t even know. Eh, I’ll find out this weekend when we “hang out”.

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