Back in the day, before I started dating my ex, I went on lots of dates with guys I termed “NGNCs” — “Nice Guy, No Chemistry.” I had no trouble telling these lovely gents when they called to ask me out again, “I think you’re a great guy, I just don’t think we’re a good match.” Generally, I’d give a good guy a second chance (i.e., second date) but if I still didn’t “feel it” after that, I’d let him down as gently as I could, but with no qualms or second thoughts.
Now, though, I find myself unable to do that. I’ve had third, fourth, even fifth dates because I’m overwhelmed by the thought of saying, “Sorry, I’m not interested.” I finally told one guy that I wasn’t ready for anything serious, and he should call me in a few months. But I know full well that even in a few months, I won’t be interested in him.
I’m at the point where I would rather lie to a guy — which is ultimately unfair to him, as well as to me — than tell the truth and hurt him in the moment.
I think what it comes down to is fear. I have this deep-seated, paralyzing, irrational fear that since the person who (supposedly) loved me best decided that I wasn’t worth it anymore, maybe nobody will ever love me again, and therefore if a nice guy is interested in me, I “should” be interested in him, and I sure as heck shouldn’t push him away because what if nobody else is ever interested? And that’s really how the thought process goes, run-on sentence and all.
I realized the other night that I want the impossible. I want him never to have asked me to marry him. I want never to have fallen in love with him. Which, backtracking, means I want never to have gone out with him. I want the last 10 months never to have happened. And I can never, ever have that.