Three days after telling me he hadn't liked someone this much in a long time, he started pulling away. At dinner, he'd said he didn't know how to act around me because the feeling was so unfamiliar. Now he was saying we were very different people and he couldn't see us working out. I was still trying to understand how those two conversations belonged to the same few dates.
The dates had been amazing. He took me to expensive restaurants and wouldn't let me pay. He was sweet and affectionate, and the attention felt personal. When I called at three in the morning because of a problem with the lock at my place, he answered, helped, and made sure I was okay. That's a difficult detail to put aside when you're trying to accept that someone may not want to keep dating you.
Even our last conversation didn't have the coldness I might have expected. He was still affectionate. He also said he was willing to hear me out if I saw things differently. So alongside the rejection, there seemed to be room for a reply. I couldn't tell whether he actually wanted me to make a case for us or was simply trying to be kind while saying something disappointing.
He'd been single for two years and had been using the apps. I know he's still talking to other women and taking them on dates. We only had a few dates ourselves, and there is no promise of exclusivity for me to point to. Still, it made me sad. He'd said he wanted something serious, and I'd started hoping that might be with me. Knowing he was continuing to look made the distance feel less abstract.
I found myself going through all the reasons I thought I should be a good prospect. I'm attractive; he's told me I'm one of the most attractive women he's dated. I'm financially comfortable, I like being at home, and I haven't had many sexual partners. None of those details tells me whether two people fit together. But when someone you like backs away, it's tempting to list everything you thought was working and search for the missing explanation.
What I wanted wasn't another expensive dinner as proof. I wanted to explore what had begun between us. The money and effort mattered because they were part of how he'd shown interest, but they couldn't tell me what he meant by us being different. He could have enjoyed our time together and still decided against a relationship. I could understand that possibility without finding it easy to match to the man who answered my call at three in the morning.
Part of me wonders what would make him miss me enough to reach out. That question is easier to sit with than the possibility that he might not. Yet he hasn't left me with silence alone: he's said he doesn't see us working out, and he's also offered to listen. I still want to know him better. I just don't know what he expects me to say that would change the answer he's already given.
