I went on a date last night.
It was the first date I'd been on in about 4 months.
I don't like going on dates because I don't like having to pretend like I'm interesting or happy or that I like myself. That isn't to say I hate myself more than anyone else. Other people are better at hiding things.
Dating is hard. When I go on a date I have to remind myself to be charming. I have to make sure I don't talk about things like my hospitalizations or farts or the things I missed out on in order to go on the date.
Last night I managed to be charming and fun for three whole hours. We ate dinner and laughed. We went to a bar that was so exciting that my date took an Instagram. We went to another bar and people watched and had more fun and laughed more and talked about the things we had in common.
I was nervous because my last couple dates had been so terrible. One I almost cried. The next one, the very frail girl I was with almost fainted in the Griffith Observatory.
I told my date about this second date last night and at the end of our date we kissed and she kidded that this date was much better than the last one I was on. I agreed and we smiled and parted ways, assuring each other we'd do something like this again soon.
I texted her today and heard nothing back.
I have no clue what happened. She's back online now looking for someone else.
Most days I feel like I'm going to be alone forever. It makes me depressed. I'm worried I'm going to turn out like my dad.
My dad and my mom divorced when I was five and I only saw him every other weekend. Once in high school I randomly dropped by his house on a weekday to borrow some DVD I wanted to watch. When I barged in he was watching sports alone in the dark. I thought about all the days he spent there in his chair, silently watching TV.
Everyday I feel more and more like I'm becoming that.
I don't know how other people meet these people that they like that like them back. I can be very supportive and loving and caring, in fact I think those are some of my best qualities, so it is strange to me that I have so much trouble finding someone to be with.
Maybe I'm meant to be alone. I hate being alone. Maybe this is why I hate life sometimes.
