My Anti-Fairytales in Dating #3: Too Good To Be True

ONCE upon a time (actually, this past summer) I got back on Tinder (after my last poor experience) with the intent of finding a relationship. This time I made sure to write in my description, “No booty calls please. Dating only”. Most of the guys that matched with me either stopped talking to me soon after the first message (if at all), or continued to message me with the intent of dating, which seemed to work out well for me.

One day I came across a guy that looked a little bit familiar. I messaged him to see if we had met before, and it turned out that he knew one of my best friends. I was intrigued, but I didn’t want to tell my friend just yet. These days, I only tell my friends about who I’m dating if it actually turns into something. Until it becomes something, it’s nothing worth talking about – in my opinion.

At first, things were pretty cool. For a few days we just texted each other back and forth over Tinder’s messenger app.  And then, as we got to know each other a little bit better, it started to become really fun.

For a week we texted each other late into the night, having bizarre and hysterical personal conversations until we passed out asleep. He was witty, extremely intelligent, interesting, and highly accomplished. I mean, the man is a human rights lawyer (more or less), teaches law at a well-respected university and is only in his mid-30’s. Plus he’s pretty fucking cute – how rare is that these days?!  I was fully smitten and I hadn’t even met him yet.

He had been working late for the past week or so, so I invited him over to my place to hang out one Friday night (I figured since he’s a friend of a friend it would probably be okay). He came to my door with burgers, fries and beer for the both of us. We spent the next few hours eating and drinking and getting to know one another – sharing stories about what we do, what interests us, our families, our lives. Well, he mostly talked about his life and the crazy and amazing stuff that he’s done. I thought it was a little strange that he didn’t ask me many questions to get to know me better, but I just figured that he was just trying to impress me.

Have you ever met someone who you seemed to click with instantly? I mean the chemistry is so electric you can almost see it.

For the first time in a very, very, VERY long time, I had finally found someone with long term potential that made me excited, that made me want to be around them ALL THE TIME. Our conversation flowed effortlessly – we bantered back and forth, fed off of each other’s ideas, made each other crack up and smile. We just seemed to get each other. It was such an uplifting and incredible feeling.

When it was time for him to go, I walked him down to the front of my apartment. We stood in at the foot of my stairs, still engaged in conversation. He asked me if I wanted to walk with him to his car. We continued our conversation for the next few blocks and then back to my house, where he dropped me off and gave me a peck on the cheek.

Ohhhh LAWD I was SO FUCKING SMITTEN. I mean, I was so into him I could barely function the next couple of days! He seemed too good to be true – smart, socially-conscious, had an impressive job, good looking, and was FUN AND FUNNY. I started to daydream about our future possibilities (always a bad thing to do, as I always jinx myself), what it would be like to be in a relationship with him. I remember telling myself, “I don’t care if he’s even a little bit selfish, I like him so much I’d do anything to be with him!”

The next day we texted on and off every few hours. Around evening time however, his texts stopped. I lightweight freaked out. Was he not interested anymore? Did he lose his phone? Was he dating someone else? I told myself to cool down and wait until he replied back.

The next day he woke up around 11 am and texted me, “I just worked and crashed early last night”. 

I replied, “Thanks so much for bringing over beer and burgers, I owe ya”

“No worries. I’ll figure out a way you can pay me back”

“Sounds kinda dirty” 

“I wasn’t thinking that…but if you insist”

The conversation was fun and flirty at first…and then it snowballed into some dirty/sexual innuendo texts. At one point he straight up told me that I could come over to his house if I wanted to — he said he’d be around “until about 7/7:30 PM”. I looked at my phone. The time was 6:40 PM.

“Did you mean you’ll be around after 7/7:30 PM, or until then?” I asked him.

“LOL what did I say? You crack me up” he replied.

That last text stopped me dead in my tracks. My jaw dropped. Did he just say something condescending to me, like I was stupid? Did he just invite me over for a bootie call with a TIME LIMIT? Are you fucking serious?! WHO does that shit?!

I told him that I was a good girl and that I didn’t really get down like that…unless it was ONLY on like that (which is rare – I don’t really do bootie calls. It’s just not that enjoyable for me).

“Hey, do you watch TV?” he suddenly asked me out of the blue. I told him I rarely did. “Homeland’s on tonight, it’s the season premiere. I’m not going out anymore. If you want to come over and watch it, let me know.”

I figured, why the fuck not. Maybe going over to his house to see what’s up with him would give me a little bit of closure.

When I came over to his spot, he was already high and drunk (apparently he does this a lot at night because his lawsuits are so high-stakes and demanding). He was much less interested in having a conversation with me this time and much more interested in smoking and watching TV. His tone had completely turned 180 degrees from the first time that I had hung out with him. That FIRST guy was sweet, smart, lighthearted, and witty. But THIS guy on the couch right next to me (in a T-shirt and boxers no less) was a bit disengaged, kinda rude, not very conversational, and not at all nice about shit. I mean, I’m a sarcastic and shit talking person too when I want to have fun! But when things are serious I’m also a very kind and caring person. At this point, I wasn’t sure if he was even capable of having that soft side in him. Perhaps it was just buried under all the stress and drugs that was flowing through his body.

We watched the Homeland double premiere. We got drunk. We kinda hooked up. I was like, “well if this isn’t going to turn into a relationship, I might as well get something out of it, right?” I felt a little bit like I was disrespecting myself, but I made that choice. He got what he wanted, I got what I wanted (although I’m sure he had more fun with it). As I went to use the bathroom afterwards, I consoled myself by thinking, “Well at least you don’t have to pretend to like his stupid artwork anymore”.  Always gotta find that silver lining.

I left his apartment around 11:30 PM, half-drunk and just very tired. As I went to the lobby and looked up at the list of people who lived in his quadriplex by the door, I noticed that his apartment had both his name and another girl’s name written down. Apparently, at one point or another, he lived in his apartment – his one bedroom apartment – with a girl named Sarah. Hopefully that was the past.

So yeah, I’ve experienced a weeklong roller coaster of emotions. I went from being smitten in love (exaggerating) to feeling like I had just met the biggest asshole I’ve ever hooked up with in my life. Smart, attractive, funny, single AND in his 30’s? Definitely too good to be true.

Will I ever see him again? I hope so. I left one of my favorite earrings somewhere around his bed.

PS. I just realized that this story somewhat resembles the plot from the movie Frozen, except that my story is R-rated and the guy’s not trying to use me to take over the throne.

Frozen-Disney   HansBetrayel

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