My Own Disaster Date

Okay... Where to start from... Let's see...

He came. We met. It ended.

     You say you love someone, you want to be with them. Establish a long lasting relationship. You guys have been talking for some time and now you want to meet. And you show up half-drunk. To say I was disappointed would be me making an understatement. Who does that? And why?

      Let me explain. For the purpose of this article, let's call him D. So D and I got talking last year when a mutual friend did the hookup. He gave him my digits and we started communicating--calls, texts and all that jazz. The first day we spoke for hours, it was like we've known for years! I was floored. And we continued like that until fast forward four months later. I return home from uni for the holidays and we agree to meet. Face to face. Prior to this, the whole time I was in school and we were talking, he was already asking me out. We were both coming out of messy relationships. We had that in common. Relationships that lasted for years yet ended badly. So we were looking for a fresh start and being that we both are hopeless romantics, we needed something serious. Real. But I kept stalling. I already knew what the answer would be. I just needed things to be done properly. We've both seen pictures of each other but that wasn't enough. So I asked him to wait until I got back.

      Then I did. We agreed he'd come see me and we could hang out and talk. And he came. And so did the surprises. He was taller than I thought--don't get me wrong, I like a tall drink of water. So there he was at 6pm--tall, dark and handsome. But more importantly, tipsy. You heard right. When I perceived the smell of alcohol in his breath, I told myself I was just imagining things. I didn't want to believe. But, reality check, he was half-drunk. I mentioned it and he explained--his line of work which has to do with being around celebs and entertainers demand that such things happen. A few bottles now and again. He came from work to see me so, go figure...

      I was already in love with D. Somewhere between our long conversations, silly jokes and lots of laughter, I fell--hook, line and sinker. I didn't see it coming. They say love picks you by the short hairs and jerks you. Touchè. I really wished things were different. The scenario was different. He was sober. First impressions matter. I took great effort in showing up nicely. Why didn't he? I was confused. I know there are no hard and fast rules to dating. D portrayed what my ideal partner was but showing up like that on our first date made me see him in a different light. That was just a deal-breaker.

      What do you guys think? If you found yourself in a similar situation, how would you handle it? Perhaps, I should have been more understanding? I still think of him, though I made it clear we couldn't remain friends. That would only make the healing process difficult as we were both heartbroken. Again.

 

 

 

 

 

 
Love, peace and cupcakes
Rosie