When I meet someone I might like, I get excited. I try to keep that excitement proportionate to how well we know each other, but I don’t hide every trace of it. I’m warm. I’m friendly. If I’m happy to see someone, I want her to be able to tell.
Over the past few years, the women I’ve dated have tended to be much more reserved. Different people, similar feeling: I arrive visibly pleased to be there, and I have a harder time reading what’s coming back.
I know people show interest differently. Someone can be quiet and still want to see me again. Early dating also comes with perfectly reasonable caution. I’m not expecting someone who barely knows me to act as though we’ve been waiting our whole lives for this.
Still, I miss the smaller signs. A simple mention that she’s excited about the date. Some visible anticipation. I’ve never had a woman dress up for a date with me, either. Clothes don’t prove interest, but that detail has become part of the broader feeling that I’m bringing more excitement than I’m receiving.
None of those things would mean much in isolation. A reserved evening could just be a reserved evening. After several years of this, though, I’ve started wondering about the pattern instead of any particular woman.
Maybe I’m drawn to people whose style is quieter than mine. Maybe the women I attract aren’t as interested as I am. Or maybe I’m asking for a kind of early warmth that other people don’t expect to offer until later.
Those possibilities leave me with different questions. A quieter person might feel plenty and show little. Someone less interested might be giving me an accurate picture. I don’t know which situation I keep finding myself in.
I can temper my attention. I already try to. What I’m less sure about is whether I should also stop hoping to hear, without having to ask, “I’m excited to see you.”
