I made my boyfriend a mixtape for his truck, using songs we’d shared with each other. It was the kind of small project I love at the beginning of a relationship: gathering up things that already feel like ours and making something out of them.
Then it sat around until I asked whether he’d checked to see if it worked.
We’ve been dating for three months. I’m 31, he’s 34, and things have already been rocky enough that I keep referring to problems we had “in the beginning,” as though the beginning were some distant era. We worked through those issues. Lately, though, I’ve been struggling with how much explaining seems necessary for the everyday parts.
When I need comfort, I have to tell him how to comfort me. When I want thoughtfulness, I have to explain what I mean. I’ve told him I enjoy little gestures, and I’ve tried showing him through the things I do for him.
He works outside, and after several days his skin was really dry. I got him a hand mask and a face mask because I thought they might help. He appreciated the gift, but nothing happened until I asked how it had felt on his skin. Only then did he put one on.
I wasn’t expecting a ceremony over skincare. Still, between the masks and the mixtape, I’ve started feeling like every gift comes with a follow-up assignment for me.
I know I can be especially romantic early on. In previous relationships, that energy was usually returned, sometimes with more enthusiasm than mine. Here, I keep waiting for a small sign that he’s thinking about what might make me happy, too.
The part that bothers me most is that I’m starting to want to stop. Stop making things, stop finding little gifts, stop being so openly caring. I don’t like feeling that way about someone I’m dating.
Maybe we’re simply different in a way that matters. I’m still trying to decide whether three months is too soon to give up, or enough time to notice how often I’m asking.
