You can image my excitement as I successfully past the second date with the latest guy I was dating - a chef.
We sailed through the first date - a nice, casual meet up where we had a few drinks and some burgers. No pressure. No awkward silences. We had plenty to talk about and was already looking forward to the second date.
In the past, at the end of a first date I never mention anything about our second one. I may bring it up in conversation during the night, but when it comes to that awkward goodbye, I seem to freeze and can't speak.
But this time I wanted the guy to know I'd had fun and would love to see him again. He seemed to jump at the thought of another date. He was almost relieved I'd spoken first. Like he had the words ready to burst out but wasn't game to say anything.
Phew, she made the first move!
He sent me a text message after I'd arrived home saying he'd had a good time, was lovely to meet me and he was keen to catch up again.
Bit brownie points.
We messaged over the weekend and organised date #2. We went ten pin bowling (at my suggestion) and it was great. We then walked to South Bank for some food and ended up along the waterfront where we made out for awhile before we went home.
He had the next day off and was keen to catch up so we locked in date #3. I was secretly excited, but also a little hesitant as I wasn't quite sure it was happening (don't count your chickens and all that).
I'd had two good dates in four days and I was on the brink of breaking my date #3 curse.
The morning of date #3 I was looking forward to seeing the guy again, but I was also hesitant. My friends kept asking if I was excited (was I?) but I downplayed it saying it was a casual catch up; I was going to his house for a couple of hours before he went to play futsal.
I must have had an inkling something was wrong because from the moment I arrived at his house, he was jumpy. I felt uncomfortable as I sat on the couch as he sat what seemed like a person's width away. It was like there was an invisible person between us.
His mind was elsewhere. He kept jumping off the couch and decided to cook some spaghetti. We watched trashy game shows on tv while we tried to make small talk (hadn't we gotten past that??).
He offered me some spaghetti and we both ate in silence as time ticked away. I was aware he had to leave in 10 mins and we hadn't really even kissed properly since I arrived. Something was going on I didn't know about. He was having second thoughts.
He announces he has to go, we kiss briefly, he walks me out - he to jump on his push bike and me to go to my car.
I sat in my car for a good few minutes wondering what happened. Yes, I'd reached the elusive third date, but at the same time, it didn't feel like a "date".
I was second guessing myself the whole time, wondering what was going on and why he was so awkward. I thought by the third date we would have been more comfortable around each other.
His parting words to me were he would message when he got home.
I guess he didn't specify which day he was referring to because hours turned into a day, then two and I still hadn't heard from him.
Something was definitely up. I message him (surprise, surprise) and no reply. Still nothing the next day. Finally that night he replies apologising saying he'd been really busy at work, blah blah blah.
All I'm hearing (or reading) is this guy's not into me. If he was, he would have sent me a message the night he got home from futsal. End of story.
I messaged back and asked what was happening. If he wasn't interested, let me know. I decided it was something he had to sort out and it wasn't anything I'd done.
Funny how a straight forward message like that gets a reply in 30 minutes.
To his credit, he sent a big, long explanation about how he'd been really busy at work (who isn't?) and he thought he could juggle a busy work schedule and a girl, but he couldn't. He was sorry for wasting my time and I was a great girl.