I wasn’t sure about him at first. His Tinder profile constituted a few topless gym selfies. Always a turn-off. But wow, did the conversation flow from the get-go! We had so much in common, from work to interests to outlook on life.
We moved to WhatsApp and it was the most free-flowing, easy, vibey conversation I’d had in forever. He sent me a selfie of him pulling a goofy face at his home working space, appeasing the initial gym-selfie façade.
And then, he started saying all the right things, like, ‘honestly, I’m really into you already, is that too full-on to say so soon?’ And then alternated between saying how much he wanted to be ‘disciplined and build the tension’ and just ‘letting it get hot as soon as we meet’, also about how much he wanted to cuddle and snuggle.
So we arranged to meet a few days later on Saturday morning for a hike and a river dip on Dartmoor. We last conversed on the Thursday, and I purposefully held off on messaging him, wanting him to confirm the date with me, which he would if he was ‘so into me, it’s mad’.
Saturday morning came and I messaged, ‘so where we meeting?!’, knowing he had no intention of meeting me at all at this point. At about 4.30pm he messaged back along the lines of, ‘we’re meeting tonight right? Dinner and cocktails?’
I called him out, told him where to go, and then on the Monday apologised for not giving him the benefit of the doubt (sometimes you should ignore your friends’ well-meaning advice), and he was ‘so happy’ to hear from me.
The same kind of conversation ensued throughout the week and then he suggested I come to his for dinner on Friday evening, stay over and hang out at his place on the Saturday while he goes to watch the football as planned, and then he’d come home and cook me dinner.
Thursday ghosting ensued.
About a month went by, I forgot about him, and then a message popped up from Oz, groveling, explaining things had been tough the last few weeks, he’d had ‘a lot going on’.
OK, OK, how about we meet for a coffee first thing Friday morning, say 9am, as you drive past my area on your way to Nottingham for your friend’s stag do?
‘It’s a date’, he said. ‘Night night gorgeous, see you in the morning.’
I stood there for 40 minutes. Messages left unread ever since.