When the Ferris wheel reached its top and Sam leaned in to kiss me, I felt like Meg Ryan or Julia Roberts. After years of being single, I was having my romantic comedy moment and I was in shock. But why not believe it? Hadn't I earned it?
At 28, I had never been in a serious relationship. I had just had confusing situations that always seemed to end with kids not being “ready for something serious” and me crying on the phone to my mom. However, the moment I met Sam, things felt different. For one thing, we didn't meet through an app but through a mutual friend, Kyra. After a quick introduction, Sam suggested we skip texting: “We're both Kyra-approved. Do you just want to have a few drinks?
He was a cute nerd, totally my type. We were both Jewish entertainment professionals, which we joked was ridiculously unoriginal in Los Angeles. We had similar values, similar interests, and, judging by our goodnight kiss session, similar kissing styles.
Determined to protect myself from the pitfalls of my past romantic entanglements, I proactively involved my therapist. She encouraged me enthusiastically, assuring me that so far she had given good signs. No warning signs.
For the fourth date, I did something scary: I talked about my emotions with a guy I was dating. With a shaky voice, I told Sam that he was looking for a real relationship, one that could go somewhere. He didn't need a commitment from him right away, but if he didn't eventually want the same thing, this wouldn't work. “That's exactly how I feel,” he said, squeezing me playfully.
Sam invited me to a Valentine's dinner. (Another first). I tried to stay calm but couldn't resist a girlish squeal. A real Valentine's Day!?
Shortly after, I left town for two weeks. Even as we texted and he joked that my knowledge of Pokémon made me extremely attractive to him, I worried he'd forget me. He wanted to see me as soon as he got back. It was his birthday and he invited me to have a few drinks with his friends. He even suggested we take a day trip the same weekend. When we left the bar where we had met his friends, he whispered, “Everyone thinks you're cool.”
In the age of apps where we mostly date strangers, it's easy to leave no trace of yourself in someone else's life. If you didn't do a “soft launch” on Instagram, if your friends never engaged, did it happen? But Sam was actively inviting me into his world. He was looking forward to our trip to Newport Beach the next morning.
Nora Ephron couldn't have written a cuter outing. It was one of those perfect Southern California winter days, bright, sunny and not too hot. We rode rented bikes to Balboa Island, where we ate frozen bananas, a reference to “Arrested Development” (“There's always money at the banana stand!”). We won prizes in the arcade and, yes, we kissed on the Ferris wheel. It was perfect.
We were exhausted and silent during the long drive home. I thought about how comfortable silence was as a hallmark of many of my closest friendships. Two months later, maybe we could just relax together.
We relaxed after he invited me to his apartment, where video games evolved into more physical activities. I felt very close to him, especially when he suggested we watch his favorite movie, “Before Sunrise,” which I had never seen. The romantic movie left me with a pleasant dream and calmed me in his arms. This was a boy who really wanted love.
Twenty-four hours later, Sam texted me. He was feeling really anxious. He knew he struggled with anxiety, so I told him he was here if he needed to talk. Now she was a supportive girlfriend (although not officially) and she knew he had big feelings about turning 30.
Our phone call that night was brief and horrible. She said that she really enjoyed spending time with me but that she didn't feel the spark. “Yesterday I thought I should stress test our trip, but it doesn't seem right,” she told me.
The whiplash was amazing. My romantic comedy fantasies burst into flames. His words, “stress test,” haunted me. A test? Did that mean he had failed? I plucked up the courage and sent him a text telling him that if our weekend had been so “wrong,” he probably shouldn't have slept with me afterwards. Her several-paragraph apology didn't stop me from sobbing for days like Diane Keaton in “Something's Gotta Give.”
My therapist assured me that was learning. She had done everything right. “This means he He doesn't know how to have a relationship. Not you.” She paused. I hated to think that dating wasn't possible and I needed to change, but if that it was not About me, how could I expect anything to be different?
Sam didn't disappear completely; Every time he liked a post on Instagram Stories, my rom-com detector went off. Was this the part where he realized that letting me go was a horrible mistake? Would we reunite like Céline and Jesse in “Before Midnight”? If I faced it (ideally in a dramatic storm in Los Angeles), would we fall into each other's arms?
Finally, Kyra told me that she had spoken to him. “He knows he ruined a good thing,” she said, “but he's in a tough spot. “Maybe it's better that things ended.”
I finally accepted that it really wasn't about me, but I also realized something else. My generation, old enough to have loved '90s rom-coms but young enough to have been lab rats for dating apps, might be romantically stunted. It's hard (for me, for Sam, and for many millennials) to recognize the “good” or the “bad” in dating. But I keep an open mind. Life is not a romantic comedy, but I hope that if I keep telling the universe (and the men I date) what I want, I will continue to inch closer to the top of the wheel.
The author is a freelance advertising and television writer. He lives in Hollywood, close enough to Runyon Canyon that he feels guilty about not hiking more. Visit his website at writtenbyslh.wordpress.com. She is on Instagram: @sofarsogood94
Los Angeles Affairs chronicles the search for romantic love in all its glorious expressions in the Los Angeles area, and we want to hear your true story. We paid $400 for a published essay. Email [email protected]. You can find shipping guidelines. here. You can find previous columns. here.
