The last three dates have ended with some version of the same explanation: they get a friend vibe. Different people, same result. At this point, the phrase feels familiar enough that I can almost hear it before anyone says it.
I’m 29, and I’ve been on a few dates here and there. Recently, though, dating has started to feel like spending time and money to arrive at an answer I already expected. Whatever happens during the date, I’m beginning to assume the ending will be the familiar one.
Nobody owes me romantic interest. I understand that. Hearing that someone sees me as a friend still stings when I showed up hoping there might be something else. After three rounds of it, the disappointment has started arriving early.
I don’t stay friends afterward. Once they tell me how they feel, I take it at face value and end things there. I’m not interested in hanging around with a different outcome quietly penciled into the margins. But that also means each attempt ends pretty cleanly. We went out, it didn’t happen, and now we don’t keep in touch.
What’s bothering me lately is how little I want to try again. There isn’t anyone I’m eager to meet. Even the possibility of another date feels more tiring than exciting. I can picture putting in the effort; I’m having a harder time picturing a reason to.
Three dates aren’t a whole future. I know that when I write it down. They’re still the most recent experiences I have to go on, and right now they carry more weight than the possibility that the next one could be different.
I used to wonder whether dating would lead to love. Lately, I get stuck a step earlier: whether I even want to go on another date. For now, I don’t.
