There are quite a few things that shouldn't happen on a first date, but this was a series of almost everything that could go wrong, did and it crumbled before my eyes. It's almost like watching someone eating with their mouth gaping open. It's a slow, horrifying process that you feel nauseated from watching, yet even with all your might, you simply can't turn away. You just sit there and gawk because that is the best action you can physically muster.
About six months ago, I went on a date with a seemingly kind, young man. We kept it simple and decided to meet at a local tea room, which was much less decadent than some places I have gone on a first date (see: "Age is Nothing But a Number" to remind you of the extravagance I have experienced in a first date). Our conversation was going on with great ease for the most part. Of course in meeting someone new, there are slight obstacles that you try traipsing around, but there wasn't anything that was insurmountable to get over.
At least there wasn't until we started talking about what I wanted to do for a living.
Long story short, I want to pursue a career in mental health care/counselling. In mentioning this, it was almost as I had seen a shift in his gaze towards me, realizing that he could speak to me about certain issues thinking that it wouldn't faze me one bit.
It wouldn't have fazed me if it were a friend who felt like they could confide in me. Or even if it were a stranger confiding in me, I wouldn't have minded. It's just that in wooing a potential mate on a first date, it's probably best if one leaves burdens from past relationships at the door. At least until we are seriously dating.
So viewing my ability to speak openly about tough situations, he found a way in. He started talking about a trip he had made to South Korea in the previous year to teach English. In the throes of the country he met a lovely Asian woman who had been through quite a bit of family struggles and there they had found love and solidarity in supporting each other. The relationship was so serious in fact, that she had moved all the way to Canada with him. However, the relationship headed towards a sour patch, and going down that path had irrevocable consequences. They had been broken up for about 6 months before I had the good fortune in going out on this date with him, and hearing him weep through this story.
Yes, you read that right. In re-living this story, he spent a good half hour at least, wiping away tears streaming down his face. Large, globular tears, mixed in with him sniffling slight snot. (My homegirl Sinead knows this all too well, am I right?) Snot-induced-tears falling while he exclaimed, "IT STILL HURTS TO THINK ABOUT THIS!"
I am usually a good person to turn to when this sort of crisis is happening, but this time around, I felt like I had been rendered catatonic. I had no proper reaction to put forth that would either help or even hurt the situation. So I sat there, and let him cry into his tea cup, checking my watch every so often to see how long this would endure. I felt sorry that he felt the need to release his frustrations to someone he barely knew. But in feeling that, I felt like a terrible person. I probably am a terrible person.
The only constructive advice I could give him was to seek out a professional counselor. Because as much as I would have legitimately tried to help him with his heart-on-the-mend, I didn't have the tools to do it. And it just wasn't what I was expecting out of a first date.
He tried to connect with me a few times after our date, but I regretfully evaded his requests to see me. I just couldn't keep going in a dating scenario, in which I knew I couldn't be his focus. And I didn't want to try and change that. He had to realize that positive change comes from how one treats themselves, even if others have trampled upon their confidence and trust. It's a difficult lesson that people have to get through, but one that's imperative to learn.
In fact, a few weeks ago I ran into him on the bus. I was engrossed in a book I was reading when all of the sudden I felt someone sit down beside me. I looked up and saw his side-view, but then I immediately looked down because I had thought I recognized him... Though I wasn't entirely sure. So using my super-sleuth Nancy Drew skills, I used my best physical ability to investigate by angling my phone to see his reflection and truly figure out if it was him. But when that didn't quite work, I pulled a Mindy Lahiri, and tried to view him through a curtain of my own hair. Quite similarly to this:
Needless to say, he didn't say anything to me, much less even acknowledged my presence. Probably because I was a grade-A creep monster, to someone who was sitting directly beside me. I guess I have my lessons to learn as a pseudo-adult, as much as this person seemingly should. But on the road to more positive changes, at least I can use these examples to remember what not to do. Especially since I have it officially written for all to see. :)
