I haven’t been this disappointed in a long time, when it comes to dating.
I went out with Bradley Cooper last night. He’d been persistent about letting me know his intentions. I mean, the guy drove 4 hours round trip twice last week to take me out. He showed up with flowers. He texted me on a regular basis, and made a point when we were together to tell me how much he was in to me. I know I was unsure about him after our second date, but I thought he deserved a third. Initially, I was glad I did.
About an hour in to our lovely evening, there it was. The question. “What’s your deal?”
I knew exactly what he meant.
“I live a chaste lifestyle.”
After that our conversation diverted to disagreeing about sex. The purpose of sex, God, religion, birth control, past relationships, ex’s, marriage, virginity, chastity, what I will or won’t do, what he’s done, how I will know I like sex, and how will I know if there’s chemistry. It sucked. I hated it. I hated him for asking. And I hated that the conversation had to happen. I hated how he asked me if I was willing to perhaps let my soulmate slip through the cracks of life because of one issue. And I hated how he made me think for a split second he could be right, despite my heart screaming the decision I have made is the right one.
We decided not to completely ruin the night and we went to grab a drink at another bar. There the sexual chemistry between us was palpable. But then the abortion discussion happened, and it wasn’t good. It made me upset with him, and we got in to a pretty heated argument. For a long time. He knew that because of it, that fourth date probably wasn’t happening.
When he dropped me off, we kissed. It was amazing. It was one of the best kisses I’ve ever had. He pulled away and said, “Well SHIT! You’re an amazing kisser. Like really amazing.”
“Yea, it’s too bad that you can’t tell anything from a kiss though. You know, sexual chemistry can really only be discovered when you have intercourse,” I replied dripping in sarcasm while patting him on the back. When you don’t have sex, you have time to perfect other skills.
Text from Bradley Cooper after he left. Don’t mind my self-pity-party.
We made out again for another 10 minutes until I had to peel myself away. It sucked. I’m creeping up on 30 dates since I’ve started this online dating venture about 6 months ago. It has always been a numbers game, and easy to write a guy off if it doesn’t work – there’s plenty of them out there. But this guy is different. This time, it really sucked.