I met a nice man last week. We went out, we laughed, chatted with ease, had a good time. I was excited but not overly smitten; he was quite cute and for whatever reason quite cute usually doesn't do it for me. But he was present and he asked if I wanted to hang out again and he seemed to put effort in, which I very much appreciated.
Midweek we had our second date. I recall listening to him towards the end of dinner, realizing I wasn't really that interested in what he was saying. And it's not because he was droning on - quite the contrary, he seemed smart, grounded, caring, gregarious, strong, and full of different life experiences. But we find people interesting when we are interested (a favorite quote of mine from We Need to Talk About Kevin). A large part of my attraction to someone also comes from feeling them see me. Truly see me. I guess that means see me with affection and care and interest in their eyes. It appeared that for me and this man, the lack of swoon went both ways.
This weekend we had our third and final date. We took a ferry boat over to Angel Island. Waters were chopping, wind whipping; the fog dominated the horizon. You couldn't see San Francisco, all you could see were the parts towards the bottom that the fog had not quite erased yet - like when you wiped away a picture you'd made in photoshop and didn't quite get to all the edges. As we sat on the deck, he held my hand... and it felt flat. I felt nothing. It was a hand on my hand, but not much more than that. As much as I liked him as a person, liked the idea of us getting along, liked the idea of being with someone like him, I could not deny the simplicity of the truth in the palm of my hand.
When you hold hands with someone you truly like it feels like the best fucking thing in the world. It feels like your hands were in search of something, and they found it. When you hold hands with the right person, your heart feels it.
Even though I knew me and this nice man weren't quite right, it was still a little disappointing to call it out. He was so easy to talk with, and we seemed to enjoy / share similar interests - on the ferry ride home we were dorky and shared earphones to listen to music together. But there was no twang of sadness at parting ways - there was no wanting to soak up every last minute and piss away the day together. Perhaps part of the disappointment in saying goodbye to these out-of-sync connections is seeing how close they come to something that could be more. Almost within grasp, but just short of clicking into place.