The Gospel According To...

Great Date Guy is back from his trip, and I think I blew it already. 

When he was back for a couple days or so, but I hadn't heard from him, I faced the dilemma that always gets me in trouble: to call, or not to call. 

Of course I called. Well, texted, actually. 

It's not that he didn't respond, because he did. It's more that I wasn't completely satisfied with that response. And so I did that thing that gets everyone in trouble: I continued to text, hoping to get more satisfying results.

I haven't seen GDGuy in almost two weeks. As if that wasn't bad enough, I'm leaving for Portland for a week. And the unsatisfying results of my texting frenzy concluded that it's unlikely there will be time for date #3 before I leave. That puts three weeks of dead time between the second and third date, and quite frankly I'm convinced there won't even be a third after that length of time.

There was a book written a great many years ago called, "He's Just Not That Into You". Since it was unleashed on the dating scene it has been adopted as gospel by pretty much everyone. It took away the responsibility to communicate, giving men the freedom to blow women off without consequence. 

I hate it.
Of course I own a copy.

According to the gospel, I should never have texted GDGuy in the first place. In fact, I could hear the deep booming voice of the author barking down at me, "Give it up! He's just not that into you!" 

Why? What could have happened in a week that would cause this change? I demand communication!

I'm not insecure; I know I'm great. A little eccentric, but great. I know why men should like me. The problem is I can't ever tell if they do. While I'm a pretty good communicator, societal dating rules (and that stupid book) discourage us from being too honest. 

An honest text would have said, "I know we've only been on two dates, but I think you're great. And I'm afraid if we put too much time between us you'll lose interest."

Instead, we lay traps and conduct tests. "I want to see you this weekend." If he really likes me he'll make time. "Will you still remember me when I come back?" Come on, profess some gushy adoration. "I'm still trying to decide if you like me." Reassure me! Tell me you like me! 

If there's anything the book taught us it's that men don't read subtle cues. We're either supposed to beat them over the head with it, or say nothing at all. And since the former always seems to convey insecurity and neediness, we play that tricky game of baiting our opponent and hunting for signs.

Did I really blow it? Only time will tell. In truth there might not be realistic time before I fly on Tuesday for a full third date. But if we believe the word of the gospel, if he IS that into me, he'll find a way.