To my core, I believe in the above statement, not just because a movie or a book told me so, but because of my own experiences. Even so, I always try to talk myself out of its validity. And I don’t think I’m alone. I’ve always been bewitched by the thought of falling in love. My normally sane thought process gets so convoluted with the potential reasons for his lack of response or vagueness, that I convince myself that it can’t be because he’s just not that into me.
I met him at a bowling alley. It was a bowling lock-in put on by my church. About 100 high school kids locked into a bowling alley for the night. I was 16 and I happened to find myself sharing a bowling lane with him. We’d spend hours sharing flirtatious looks until one of us, and I don’t remember which one it was, got the nerve to issue a challenge. I don’t remember who won. In fact, I don’t remember many of the details of that night, or the little details from the next morning, when desperately seeking reasons to continue to hang out I suggested we get breakfast- although, I imagine I ate french toast, since I always choose french toast. We continued to flirt through breakfast, but he didn’t ask for my number. We exchanged an lingering hug and I got into my little yellow bug and went home. I consoled myself knowing I was bound to run into him at church.
A day went by and I couldn’t get this boy out of my head. So I did what girls do. I replayed every moment of our time together. I analyzed all the reasons he may not of asked for my number. Eventually my curiosity got the best of me and I decided to be bold. I wanted this guy to know I liked him. I had to tell him. So I started making some calls. Who did I know that might know someone who knew his phone number? It didn’t take long for me to come up with his home number and gather the courage to give him a call. I was overcome with both disappointment and relief when his answering machine came on. I did my best to leave a message that sounded casual and confident.
Then I waited.
A few hours later, he called. During our first 3-hour phone call I learned that the reason he didn’t answer was because he had been driving around town looking for a girl in a bright yellow bug. He had literally spent an entire afternoon just driving around to places I had mentioned during our conversation, hoping to “run into me”. He succumbed to the fact that he would just have to run into me a church when he found me on the message machine.
I was smitten. If I hadn’t been so into him, I would have called it stalking. It was one of those “meet cute” stories I had always dreamed of.
He and I dated for almost 2 years before we went our separate ways, but I’m always reminded of this story whenever I watch, He’s Just Not That Into You.
“If a guy wants to see you, he will see you.”
And let’s not discount that honestly, maybe I’m not that into him either, but society, expectations and my uterus have lead me to believe that I’m getting too old to be alone. Could it be that desperation is setting in at the tender age of 28?
Enough is enough.
The truth is, dating, especially online dating, takes a serious time commitment. And time isn’t really something I feel like I can spare right now. Sure, I still get carried away with the idea of finding Mr. Right, but I’d rather spend all that analytical brain power on launching my business and use my curiosity to learn about the world.
I guess what I’m saying is I’m giving up on “trying” to find Mr. Right. I think if he truly is Mr. Right, I’ll run into him when I least expect it and I’ll know he’s into me, because he will make sure I know. Or, maybe not. Either way, I resolve to stop worrying about it, because really, what’s the point?