First dates are electric. They make your skin tingle and your stomach flip; they make you feel like you stepped into a Nicholas Sparks novel.
You make constant eye contact, giggle every time they say something silly and try to do that flirty smile from the movies while you take a sip from a straw (it fails almost every time, and you both laugh). Whether the date was planned or spontaneous, you do everything you can to be at your best. You tell stories you haven't told in years, talk about your plans for the future, compare how nerdy you were in middle school.
The end of the night always seems magical, whether it ends with a surprise kiss or just holding hands. Things seem to be going perfectly, and you go back to your apartment practically spinning. You spend the time before your next date blushing when they text you, singing along to cheesy first-love songs in the shower and strategizing with your friends about outfit and makeup choices.
The second date might be two days or two weeks later, but any amount of time feels like years. You can't wait to be with the person who seems like the one you've been searching for. You double check your appearance before you leave and text your best friend second-by-second updates, waiting for your date to arrive.
When you see them, you get almost unbearable butterflies. You want things to be the same, you want to look into their eyes and feel fireworks in your own. You want to talk to them for hours. You don't care what you do, you just want to be together.
Maybe you're expecting too much, or maybe you thought you knew them more than you did from just one night, but things aren't the same immediately. They tell you something about their past that shocks you or share a belief that is the polar opposite of your own. They tell you they have a bad habit or maybe they just snore.
Regardless of the reasoning, by the time your date is taking you home, the conversation has grown silent. You tap your foot on the bus or in their car, and they avoid eye contact. When you do look at each other, you give an awkward smile. But it's almost like a different kind of connection between the two of you -- no one needs to say anything. Both of you know something's changed that cannot be fixed and you wait until it's time to say goodbye.
When they drop you off, they unenthusiastically tell you to keep in touch. "Yeah, of course, definitely," you respond. "See you soon," one of you says -- a formality rather than a promise.
These things hurt. It's easy to be sad or frustrated when the person you thought they were isn't the person they are -- and you're not the person they want you to be. It happens all the time, but we never talk about it. No one ever tells you it's OK for a fling to fail after a few dates. No one ever tells you that you don't have to hate your failed second date, that you can truly wish the best for them without any malice.
So I'm here to tell you that it's OK. Things don't have to last for months or years to matter, and it's OK to feel hurt after nothing comes of a few dates. It's OK to long for what really wasn't ever there, and it's OK to lose touch. It's OK to hope that person has a good life, even if it's a life separate from your own.
Because sometimes, things just don't work out, and that's OK, because one day, it will -- for both of you.
