The Science of Growing Apart

1- Tulip

"I named my cat Tulip."

"Like, the flower?" The man sitting across the table from me looked unimpressed as he chomped down on his twenty dollar burger.

"Yeah. Because, you know, Tulips represent deep and unconditional love, and the second I looked into her tiny green eyes, I knew that I would love her deeply and unconditionally."

The expensive burger restaurant was his idea, and I think it was meant as an attempt to impress me. Instead, it caused a ten minute ordeal at the beginning of the meal as I stared at the menu gasping at every item asking "how could a plain cheeseburger possibly be worth that much money?" It wasn't the best start to a first date, and it didn't seem to be getting any better, as I could tell my cat story wasn't really amusing him either.

"At the rescue center," I continued to tell the story anyway because, well, I didn't know what else to talk about and he wasn't all that chatty. "She was such a sweet girl and even took a nap on my lap. Once I got her home though, she kind of turned into the devil. Do you have any pets?"

The guy- I think his name was Jason or James, but even his name was beginning to escape me- finished his bite and then nodded his head and answered, "Yep."

I waited for a long time as I chewed a fry for him to continue his thought, but I eventually realized that was all he had to say. "What kind?" I eventually prodded. I wondered if my cheapskate ramblings at the beginning of the night had made him uninterested in me, or if he was this boring on all of his dates? Or maybe he thought I didn't look like my online pictures as much as he was expecting. I thought my pictures were pretty accurate though, and I dressed up really well for the date, so it must be a him problem.

"I have two dogs," he stated and again, I waited for more description that never came.

I loved my cat named Tulip a lot, despite how evil she could be sometimes, so I was very able to talk about her all night including pictures, videos, and scratches that covered my shins, hands, and forearms. However, I thought it'd make this date even more awkward if I continued talking about her all night. Then, I'd be that one girl who talked about her cat the entire time.

"What do you like to do for fun?" I decided to change the subject and hoped that if I got him talking about something he was passionate about, maybe he'd feel inspired to say more than a handful of words.

"I work a lot," Jason/James shrugged and then bit into his burger again. "But I like to write sometimes."

"Oh, cool!" I said enthusiastically... probably a little bit too enthusiastically... but I felt a ginormous wave of relief hit me when I realized we have something in common and therefore, maybe could hold a more mindful conversation. "I'm a journalist for a living, so I do a lot of writing."

"Isn't journalism kind of dead?" he raised his thick eyebrows at me.

I felt disappointed with his lack of enthusiasm, yet again, and a little bit insulted by his reaction. "Print, maybe, but I work for an online journal. And we do really well. Without journalists, nobody would know what's going on in the world. There wouldn't be anybody to keep public figures accountable, like politicians and stuff."

I could feel one of my rants coming on, but then he opened his mouth and said, "Got it," and that pretty much ended that conversation.

My brain was melting, and I wondered if he could see the goo beginning to ooze out my ears. It would be nice if he could, as it would be a pretty good excuse to get out of this boring date. I never had to set up a phone-a-friend scheme before to get out of bad dates, but I was reconsidering as I sat across from this man who, apparently, never learned how to form sentences longer than six words.

Eventually, the check came and we paid for our separate meals. I made a mental note that I wouldn't be able to go out to eat for the rest of the week to cover for this ridiculous burger, and that I would be choosing the restaurant on any upcoming first dates.

"I had a really good time, Jane" Jason/James said as we were rising from the table. I suddenly felt a lot less guilty about forgetting his name, as he clearly had a hard enough time remembering that my name was Josie, and not Jane. My feet were itching to get me away from this man so that I could run back home and tell Tulip all about what a disaster the night had been. She was a good listener, as long as I gave her treats. "Do you want to meet up again next weekend?"

I was astonished that he was under the impression that this was a good date. I would pay a million dollars, if I had it, to know what would be considered a bad date in his mind.

After blinking a few times at the oblivious man in front of me, I eventually said, "I don't think so. Have a good night," and rushed out of the restaurant before he could even react. I wasn't good at rejection, either receiving or giving, so I panicked a little bit. But I could not endure another date with him, and I couldn't, in clear conscious, ghost him like I so badly wanted to do.

Dating as a 24 year-old woman in Washington D.C. was no easy feat, and I sure wasn't good at it. But sometimes, when I got lonely enough, I still tried. Going back as far as high school, I felt like I was cursed in the romance department. Unrequited loves, infidelity, and awkward dates riddled my dating history like a bad plague.

I never could figure out why that was, as I felt like I was an average looking woman with a good head on my shoulders, a good job, my own apartment, and sometimes I was kind of funny. The fellas had no clue what they were missing out on.

By the time I was crawling back into my single bedroom apartment, I was exhausted by the terrible night I'd had. I texted my best friend, Natalie, about just how bad the date went as I began pulling the hair tie out of my unruly auburn curls. They fell haphazardly around my shoulders, looking tired and worn out from being styled in an up do all day.

I wiped the makeup off of my face as I blocked Jason/James from my phone, and then got dressed in pajamas- just an old t-shirt and shorts. All the while, getting chased around and harassed by little Tulip as she screamed in high pitched meows until I finally fed her dinner on the kitchen floor.

The final step of my night, after washing my face and brushing my teeth, was to lay in bed and relive the bad date over and over in my head until I deleted Tinder from my phone, wondering why I even bothered in the first place.

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Song: I'm Okay Now - Badly

Story playlist link in the comments!

If you didn't read Love Child, you can still read this story, but there might be a few parts that are harder to understand without some backstory. Let me know what you guys think so far!