I do not want people to be very agreeable.

11/14/2016 The Dilettante 15 Comments

I do not want people to be very agreeable, as it saves me the trouble of liking them a great deal.
-Jane Austen

Same, Jane. Same. 
The past weekend (and the Grant debacle) has led me to a lot of self-reflection, and I've come to a conclusion that was apparently obvious to everyone but me: I only want men to like me once I've already decided I like them. 
*Sigh.* 
I think, naturally, we all want potential beaus to progress at the same speed we do on the spectrum from admiration to marriage. I'm of the personal opinion that timing is just as important as any other one aspect in finding an eternal companion. After all, don't "He's going too fast," and "I'm tired of waiting for him to be ready," make the Top 10 list of dating complaints?
But really, in the grand scheme of things, isn't that a shame? That you'd lose out on something great only because the stars weren't aligned that day? Perhaps, though, that's divine intervention. Otherwise, what would stop you from ending up with them?
Anyway, no conclusions beyond that one were drawn. I'm still not interested in Grant, though recognized that the above reason was a big part of that. I ended up talking with him and explained that I just wanted to be friends. He was surprisingly okay with that, which I was very excited about. But since, he's only increased his flirting (in a "haha-just-kidding-but-seriously" way). At least he knows now. 
Despite the unfairness of wanting available suitors to accommodate my timeline, there's something undeniably beautiful about two people falling for each other at the same time.
 And then I want them to like me more than I like them, but that's an entirely different post.
With all the love in my flighty little heart,
The Dilettante

15 comments:

Post a Comment

A man's imagination is very rapid.

11/11/2016 The Dilettante 1 Comments

I want to tell you about a moment of utter panic that I had this morning. It looked a little like this:




For alas, I made the mistake of being too charming last night on my date with Grant.
Now, I like Grant. I met him a couple months ago when he was visiting my YSA ward. He thinks I'm funny, and he's really nice. But he doesn't talk. It's like pulling nails to get him to say words. 
My response to painfully awkward silence is babbling. About anything. So when I'm with him, I just yammer on like Foghorn Leghorn. My entire life story comes out. It's over, and the silence is still awkward. I start telling my friends' life stories.
He's told me twice now that he loves listening to me talk. Drat.
Last night was our first date, but I'd managed to convince myself we were just hanging out. Grant told me on our walk that he'd recently had to cut ties with his last group of friends, and he was grateful he could just come to the city and do something. Great! I thought. I mean, after all, I was wearing sweats. And hadn't washed my hair in two days. Sorta on purpose. I'm just starting up his next friend group. He'll probably make a bunch more, and we can hang out in groups so there are more people talking. He pointed out his favorite restaurant, and said we should go next week. I agreed, but hinted that we should invite some of the other YSAs. Just a bunch of friends.
Then this.


Tell me, dear friends. What would Jane Austen do?

Clueless as always,
The Dilettante

1 comments:

Post a Comment

The Moment When Casual Became Too Casual for the Dilettante

11/03/2016 The Dilettante 3 Comments

The thing that drew me the most to UVU Boy wasn't his love for older Pokemon games and Super Smash Bros (though I'm a closet gamer). It wasn't his mission pictures, or his adorable nieces and nephews, or his fake, knitted beard. It wasn't even the fact that when we met, we had a conversation where we planned a real-life Oregon Trail trip, and it was one of the most hilarious conversations I've ever had. It was because he was so laid back.

I hate digital-age dating. As if small talk wasn't bad enough, it's like we have to stay in constant communication to really be close, and that means dragging out the small talk and putting it on Facebook messenger or in texts. 

Maybe it's because I haven't been head-over-heels in love with someone since MSN Messenger was still a thing, but for me, what starts out as a fun and flirty relationship often ends up looking a lot like the conversation on the left. Being a good listener is one of my best traits, and I love it, but it tends to draw some pretty needy people. More often than finding someone I can have balanced conversation with, I end up with a guy who doesn't need a girlfriend as much as he need some sort of robot that throws him an affirmation every few minutes.

UVU Boy wasn't like that, though. He didn't feel the need to constantly be talking to me. When we both felt like it, we'd have a really good conversation via text or in person. Dates were fun, and I never felt insecure about whether he liked me or not.

"Great!" you say. "Why didn't you try to start something serious?" you say. Two reasons: (1.) I surprised myself by being really really comfortable with this "Are they, aren't they?" thing, and (2.) just before I met UVU Boy, I wore myself out going after a guy who put in no effort at all, and I vowed that I was NOT going to be the initiator with whoever I dated next. 

Months passed, though, and nothing changed about the way we interacted with each other. Our talks, our jokes...they weren't all the same, but they weren't building to anything. I'm no stranger to slow-burn relationships, but Season Seven of our TV banter was still looking an awful lot like Season One's. 

Both of us were sitting there under the expectation that someday we'd both decide to be more serious. After all, we got along great, didn't we? But neither of us really felt like we needed to be more serious yet. Even more months passed (nine, to be exact), and we were both still figuring we'd get to it someday.

Then I realized.

We don't want to get serious because we are just. friends.

Operating under the assumption that we were just being casual kept us both safe from everyone else out there. When friends asked if I was seeing anybody special, I didn't have to make up some joke about being a cat lady in training. I could shrug, smile a little, and say, "Well, there is this one guy..." When dates with another guy started to turn sour, I could tell him sorry, but there's someone else.

But we were never going to be anything. We just wouldn't admit it.

Letting go of that expectation wasn't difficult for either of us, ultimately. And the first time I tried to talk with him after that, it felt exactly the same as it always had.


Someday, I'll find that guy who glues me to my phone. The one I talk to constantly without the cursed plague of small talk. The one I'll put down my phone for, because I'd much rather carve out time to go see him face to face than text another word. 

Until then, I guess I'll keep practicing my cat lady jokes.

The Dilettante

3 comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Posts (Atom)