I don’t want to date you, I really don’t. I don’t need to share nachos on a Tuesday evening, wishing I was at home watching my Netflix. I don’t want to sit across from you while you half listen to me and half watch the game playing behind my head. No. Time is precious and spending a couple, useless hours listening to you talk about work and insignificant, small details about who you are trying to portray to me is time I can never get back.
I want the grit. I want the comfortable conversations you have with someone who you have undeniable chemistry with. I want to talk about your fears and passions. Tell me about your favorite book and why it impacted you. Tell me about your biggest failures and accomplishments. Let’s hear about your craziest dreams and your rationale on why we’re all here. Share with me what lights your soul on fire, share with me what keeps you smiling during rough times.
I don’t want to date you, I really don’t. I want to go to an amusement park and go on rollercoasters until we feel nauseous. I want to walk down by the lake with ice cream and people watch in comfortable silence. I want to talk about what we were like as children and who our heroes were growing up. Don’t give me the surface level, trivial parts of yourself that you so willingly give up on typical dates. Don’t give me the interview version of yourself, who has carefully scripted his answers to the typical dating questions. I want the real, the raw and the honest.
I don’t want to date you, I really don’t. I want to indulge in a connection resembling magic. We never drain each other, we just grow.