We eat casual Italian food and drink white wine. He’s interesting and well-travelled and empathic and kind. He’s smart. The conversation might be the most engaging one that I’ve ever had. We’ve read the same books, studied the same topics. We push each other about ideas and theories. Have similar goals and wishes for the future. The sun sets and the cafe patrons turn around twice in the length of time that we are there. After dinner, I go into the bathroom and look at my phone.

I’m at the beach - are you here? I’m going to swim and watch the sunset. Russell. My heart falls; I want to ditch this date and go to join him. I respond telling him that I’m out with a friend but will be home soon.

I go back out and the man and I walk together to the beach. The sun is shooting up orange rays into the sky. I know that Russell is watching this from the other beach. The man offers me his arm, and I hesitantly take it. It feels odd, and I’m not into it. We eventually return to his car. I ask if he can drive me home. Of course.

He pulls up in front of my apartment and turns off the car and gets out. I am getting out, and he comes around to my side. Shit, shit, shit.

I thank him for dinner and the walk and the good conversation. We hug, and then suddenly and without warning, he is kissing me. My insides are freaking out. I feel no passionate response within me, no heart fluttering, no desire. I don’t want this.

I push him away playfully. This was a date after all, and I smiled and laughed a lot. Of course, he likes me. Of course, he’d want to state his intentions with a kiss at the end of the night.

I go up into my apartment and message with Russell. I tell him that I’m sad to have missed the beach sunset with him. His reply: