I just started dating again, and met this great guy. He’s everything the adorable, romantic, respectful, accomplished male lead in a rom-com is supposed to be, and I almost like him. We’ve been seeing each other a little over a month, and it kills me that I’m not head-over-heels by now.
Everyone has a checklist. Don’t deny it, we all know you do. When I size someone up for romantic potential, I run through a number of different characteristics I expect to find: smart in that sexy cool “I can teach you new things” kind of way, good looking with funny quirks, confident but not cocky, reliable and sometimes romantically spontaneous. This guy aces my checklist, which is amazing, but something just doesn’t fit.
I was watching You’re the Worst the other day on Hulu, which is a massively funny TV show about two of the most horribly selfish and dysfunctional people finding that strange comfort spot with one another where others before had failed. The pilot episode ends with one of those pillow-squeezing scenes when you realize that despite these two people’s brokenness, they are actually broken in just the right way for each other.
We don’t click like that, and it is no one’s fault, but I wonder if it’s even necessary to click anymore. I mean, I got up off the bathroom floor-mat after I realized flying carpets and serenading princes weren’t a thing. Will my need to cataclysmically click with someone fade one day too? Are good relationships of adulthood more about stability and reliability than perfect personality matches?
There is a fantastic quote by an unknown that goes, “unless it is mad, passionate, extraordinary love, it’s a waste of time. There are too many mediocre things in life. Love should not be one of them.” In my experience, mad passionate love is eventually destructive, and it hurts… a lot. But nothing feels more consuming or purposeful than that kind of love either.
The struggle is real, and my true concern is trying to wait something out that might never evolve into me feeling more. I’m not about that leading-on game, but maybe I’m just too immature to see the potential in something real, or too scared to admit when there is no future.