Online Dating Meet-ups

After you read the following excerpt from my life, you will realize that this happened quite some time ago. The first clue is that the weather was warm enough for me to be sweaty when out riding. I believe I drafted this post back in late September. He was the last of the very cool online dating site guys that I will be rejected by. I’ve given up online dating forever. (Okay, wait. I lied. One night about five weeks ago, I had too much to drink and I put up a profile at ChristianMingle.com. But I’ve never gone back and I delete all the notices about all the amazing people they haven’t matched me with.)
But I have given up on meeting people online. Never mind that it seems to work for everyone else. It hasn’t and isn’t working for me. I’m throwing in my cards. Anyway, here’s the depressing rejection story:

The obvious down side to online dating is that eventually you must meet up…with somebody…somewhere…eventually…or you risk nothing and gain even less. Most of the time these meet ups go nowhere. I mentioned a couple of posts back how I was supposed to meet up with this guy on Friday night. He’s a writer, and his online presence is delightful. This instantly made me suspect he was a fraud. Well, as luck or fate would have it, I ended up coming down with a whopping back-to-school cold which took my voice. A meet up of any kind was just not in the cards for Friday night. Sunday afternoon, however, was a different story.

To make a long and not very funny or entertaining story short, we met up this afternoon. On bikes. Helmet hair and sweaty-ness at it’s finest. Obviously, I didn’t look my best. He was instantly recognizable and looked even better than his photos. I wonder why I ever agreed to something so casual. He’s also completely adorable. He’s also, after meeting me, not giving off the vibe that he is all that interested in me.

One week later it’s clear he’s gone silent.

Apparently he wasn’t a true cyclist after all or he’d have fallen in love with my cute little mushroom helmet fashion and clipless shoes.

Fuck that.
I’m really gorgeous, when I clean up. His loss. Most definitely not mine.

The best part of all this is that he didn’t immediately delete me from his Facebook. (That would have revealed him early on as the jerk he really is.) He’s gone silent alright. Never so much as said a word to me digitally or otherwise since. Wait. I think he liked one of my posts on FB since then. Really? The dude is behaving like he is in middle school. It’s going to feel wonderful deleting him from my Facebook.

Since that meet-up, I’ve had four and a half glorious months to figure out life without a guy around. Here’s what I know: It’s better. I’m having more fun these days than I’ve had in years. I have more freedom than I’ve had in years. And though there are evenings when I stay home and don’t go out, it is because I don’t want to go out, not because I have no invitations.

And, I lied earlier. I’m gorgeous whether I clean up or not.

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About Miz Insomniac

Usually, it's the kids who grow up and leave home, but Miz Insomniac switched it up. When her kids grew up she decided to make her dreams come true so she flew the nest. After making 12 trips across the pond and back to Europe, Eastern Europe, and the Middle East in 2014-15, Miz Insomniac now qualifies as a world traveler. She hasn't quite mastered the fine art of traveling light, but she knows how to manipulate travel plans to avoid missed flights and jet lag. A former hopeless romantic turned realist, she's stateside now reinventing her life in a new city, with new opportunities, and all the challenges that come with leaving a career, traveling abroad for a year, and then returning to a world that's nothing like she left it. Her overseas travel is by no means over, it's just not as frequent. She's different now, but remains a night owl. She writes when she should be sleeping...and while you probably are.

Posted on December 16, 2012, in Blogging/Writing, Dating, Memoirs and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 2 Comments.

  1. I’m gorgeous whether I clean up or not.

    I’m certain

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