In early October 2016, I met Joe on Tinder. My first debate is, what is Tinder? Is it a hook-up app or dating app? I’m yet to know.
Joe and I matched. My first thoughts about Joe was that he looked a lot like Stifler from American Pie. Oddly enough, I’m not attracted to Sean William-Scott but I was quite attracted to Joe. I reached out to Joe, and I half-assed my messages if I’m entirely honest. If I like someone, I like to give them my undivided time and at the time I matched with Joe, I was actually talking to someone else. His named was Daniel.
As fate would have it, Daniel proved to be somewhat of a… fuckboy. That’s the terminology these days, right? The first picture Daniel ever sent me, was of his ass. Now, I’m not opposed to the whole picture swapping thing and it was actually a pretty fine ass, but it was sort of sleazy. The conversations became very sex orientated and as I did not feel much of a pull to this guy, I was beginning to lose interest. Before I had a chance to tell him, the almighty dick pic arrived! I don’t know why I use the word almighty – there was nothing almighty about it! I quickly ended the whole thing. He was not what I was looking for.
Queue the return of Joe. I had not spoken to him for a few days and I decided, this guy is actually cute looking and I like the sound of him, let’s give him a go. Joe and I seemed to bounce back and forth with our messages quite naturally. They were cheeky, flirtatious, a little crude but mostly, fun. I gave him my number and we spent the day texting nonstop.
It was fairly evident that Joe was into me, and I’m not the best at hiding my interest so it was massively clear I was into him too. One thing I really liked about Joe, was that unlike Daniel, when he sent me pics they were of his face (which is gorgeous, btw!) and the odd few of his body.
This brings me to talk about mens bodies.
Whilst I’m not the biggest fan of men with muscles (is that odd?), I’m not overly attracted to very slim guys either. I like the inbetweener. Yet, Joe is quite the slim guy. Slimmer than what I would usually go for anyway. Alas, that didn’t bother me as I had been talking to Joe for two weeks by now and I was thoroughly enjoying him. He was incredibly funny, crudely minded, charming and he managed to put a smile on my face most days. There was definitely potential for this guy.
The night of the date – queue inner screams of utter delight and being bat shit scared.
Here’s the thing – Joe had only seen my face, never my body. So whilst I’m not overly ashamed of my body, I must admit it has drastically changed over the last 3 years. I gained a lot of weight, mostly due to being diagnosed with severe depression and severe anxiety a couple years back. Food became a comfort to me. If I was down I would eat, if I was anxious, I would eat, etc. It was vicious cycle that I have struggled to put an end to. Better late than never, because in June 2016 I made the decision to lose weight because in all honesty, when I wasn’t big, I was happy, confident and comfortable. I am nearly 42lbs lighter and it’s late November 2016. If that’s not an achievement, I don’t know what it. I’m still going!
Anyway, back to the main topic. The wonderful Tinder man…
I met Joe outside the restaurant and whether or not it was my insecurity that Joe would be disappointed, I’m fairly certain I did detect a hint of disappointment when he first saw me. I however, was pleasantly surprised. He was much better looking in person than his photos. Regardless of what he thought, he was still nice enough to compliment me and hold the door open. What a charmer!
The date went great. The conversation flowed easily without long, awkward pauses. Giggles were had and smiles were beaming. This is going well… panic sets in. This is going too well! Either we really are clicking here, or this guy deserves an Oscar. The date ends three hours later, he pays for the bill (despite me insisting to pay half) and implies there will be a second date. He wants to see me again? Really? This guy must be a good egg. We leave the restaurant and stand outside whilst he vapes (because he’s cool, right? All the cool kids vape). There was no kiss – not an issue. It’s only the first date, he’s germy (a little sick) and I’m far too bedazzled by how lovely he is.
When I got home, I texted him (are there really any rules that you have to wait?) and I told him that I had a lovely time. He replied saying “I had a really good time. Good choice of place. You really are very attractive. You shouldn’t need a king dong cock dog toy anyway, that’s for sure x” – the toy is somewhat of an inside joke. So there I am, back from my date and quite positively over the moon. I had a successful first date with a gorgeous guy who made my cheeks hurt from laughing and smiling so much. Kudos to Joe!
Days later after much continuous texting and flirting, Joe goes AWOL. Oh, great. The worrying sets in, and a friend of mine niggles in my ear to fester more concern. It’s no good telling myself to not get attached – that boat has sailed! Eventually, Joe returned my messages and explained that his son had been poorly. Understandable, and non questionable.
I do however, begin to detect a slight shift in our messages. The flirtatious tone is dying. I begin to wonder if he’s losing interest. My first mistake was listening to said friend. I realise now we like very different men, and our personalities are also very different. So, I question Joe’s interest. I don’t question him once, I question him maybe 3/4 times. Big. Fat. Mistake!
I even extended the “Shall we just call it off?” branch out of frustration. Joe decides to call it off and I realise, I’ve fucked up here. Reel him back in and do whatever you can to rectify the error. It worked, or so I thought. Joe agreed to a second date and the date/time/place was set. Our messages continue back and forth, and then he cancels our date two days prior because of work. So we reschedule for the following Friday.
Yet, I don’t hear from Joe again. He’s gone ghost, as the cool kids say. I begin to wonder was my weight an issue for Joe? Sucks for him if it is, because I am much more than my size and it’s something that’s changeable, and it is changing. I’m a firm believer in the well-known phase, “If you can’t handle me at my worst, you don’t deserve me at my best.”
However! I also understand each individual has their own personal preference. Maybe my current size is not to his taste. Fair enough, I can accept that. Damn shame though, as our personalities blended fantastically and we clearly got on.
To me, it now feels like maybe Joe lead me on. He was interested, and then he wasn’t. And rather than just tell me, he continued to string me along because it was probably easier for him and that way, my feelings wouldn’t be hurt. I have to say though, to any single men who reads this, it doesn’t hurt any less. In fact, I’d say it hurts more because what you’re doing (and ladies are just as guilty sometimes) is making that person believe you have a genuine interest in them, and then you disappear because you don’t know how to tell them you don’t like them in that way.
I worked the nightshift on Friday 18th November and as I hadn’t spoken to Joe for a week, I decided to make smalltalk. He was drunk and texted me “You’re pretty.” I stood in my kitchen at 6:30am mixed in a combination of, OMGAWD and what the fuck?
Maybe Joe wanted something more casual and he detected that I’m actually one of those girls who doesn’t do casual flings. I can’t just fuck a guy so casually. I tried once, I really did. I tried a one night stand and it turned into a two year relationship! Whatever it was, Joe tells me it’s because he’s not sticking around. His application to join the Army is in and he said there’s no point in starting something for it to end quickly.
Do I believe him? I really don’t know. I can’t help but detect the aroma of bullshit, but I’m trying to keep an open-mind. I’m a woman and if I really like someone, I’ll give it 100% and try to make it work, even if it meant going long distance. The inner romantic in me is such a bitch at times.
It sucks that I like Joe a lot and got on so well with him, and I can’t have him. But that’s the card I’ve been dealt so I’ll take it. I’m not the belle of the ball but I can’t remember the last time I wanted a guy and could not get him. So yes, this sucks. This sucks a bag of dicks.