We’ve been on five dates: two dinners, two lunches, and a movie. It’s a short enough list to remember without checking anything, which makes it strange that I already feel guilty about possibly ending it.
He asked for my Instagram about a month ago. We started talking, and roughly two weeks later, we went on our first date. Since then, there have been more messages, more plans, kissing, and a little physical affection. We haven’t defined anything. He hasn’t asked me to be his girlfriend.
Still, it doesn’t feel casual enough for me to shrug and walk away. He’s told me he really likes me, and I’ve said it back. That part keeps catching me. I don’t know exactly when my feelings became less certain, or whether they’ve changed enough for me to call it losing interest. I just know I’m no longer sure.
He’s nice. There isn’t a terrible date I can point to, or something he said that made everything click into place. If someone asked what he did wrong, I wouldn’t have an answer. Somehow that makes saying I might not want another date feel much harsher.
My last relationship ended because we both lost interest. Neither of us had to deliver news the other person didn’t see coming. We arrived at the same place, and although it was an ending, at least we agreed on what was happening.
This time, he still seems excited. I’m the one hesitating, while a month of texting and five dates start to feel like promises I don’t remember making.
I haven’t decided what to say. Even putting the uncertainty into words makes me feel mean, although keeping it to myself doesn’t make it disappear. We’re somewhere between getting to know each other and becoming something more, and I’m trying to figure out how to say I might not want to keep going.
