In early October, I headed out for another date with Joe #2.
About twenty minutes into my drive, I got stopped at a train crossing. As I sat there waiting, my CarPlay interrupted Taylor Swift’s newest song and Joe #2’s name popped up on the screen.
“Hey,” I answered, a little confused.
“Hey,” he said. “I think I misjudged traffic and got here way too early.”
I laughed a little.
“Oh, okay. I’m stuck at a train, but I should be there in about twenty minutes.”
“Alright, no worries,” he said. “I’ll just watch an episode of Seinfeld or something. Call me when you get here.”
“Sounds good. I’ll see you in a little bit.”
Joe #2 could be a little quirky at times. Some of our phone conversations made me question whether we were as compatible as I initially thought.
But in person, things always seemed easier.
When I arrived, we headed into an axe-throwing place for our date. Neither of us had done it before, which made it even better.
After a few rounds, we loosened up, started joking around, and settled into our usual banter. By the end of it, I was genuinely having fun.
Afterward, we walked down the street to grab something to eat.
We spent most of dinner people-watching and making up stories about strangers walking by. It was surprisingly entertaining.
As the night wrapped up, I left feeling good about things.
Joe #2 wasn’t perfect.
We weren’t perfectly compatible.
But I enjoyed spending time with him, and at that point, that was enough.
The following day, I had plans with Joe #1. Our date was quick and casual, but I finally got to meet his dog.
I still liked him, which somehow made things more frustrating. Every time we saw each other, I enjoyed myself. We had good conversations, easy banter, and genuinely got along well.
The problem was that we barely saw each other.
Neither of us seemed willing to put much effort into changing that.
At the same time, I wasn’t entirely upset about it.
Dating had become a much healthier part of my life than it had been when I first started. I wasn’t obsessing over every interaction or trying to force something to work.
It was okay for dating to take a back seat.
Life was busy. And that was okay.
A couple of weeks later, I met Joe #1 again at a bar near my office.
It was early October, and the place was already covered in Halloween decorations.
We split a few appetizers, talked for a while, and fell into the same easy rhythm we always seemed to have.
Honestly, that was probably why we kept talking despite seeing each other so infrequently.
There was never any drama.
There was never any conflict.
There just wasn’t much momentum either.
At the end of the night, he gave me a quick kiss goodbye and headed home.
As the weeks went on, our communication became less frequent.
He was in the middle of moving back closer to home.
I was searching for my own apartment.
Life got busy. The texts became less consistent.
Eventually, one day, he didn’t answer me.
And I never sent another text.
A few days later, he apologized for disappearing, and we had the conversation that was probably overdue.
Neither of us was particularly invested anymore. We agreed to end things. I haven’t spoken to him since.
Ironically, he appeared on my Hinge account shortly afterward.
I blocked him and kept swiping.
No hard feelings. Just another chapter that had naturally run its course.
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On a completely different note, Chris unexpectedly resurfaced around this time.
I was at my best friend’s house one afternoon when he texted me.
At first, the conversation seemed harmless enough.
He was at Oktoberfest with my sister, brother-in-law, niece, and nephew and reached out to say hello.
Unfortunately, it didn’t stay harmless for very long. The conversation quickly turned into an argument.
Before long, he was cursing at me again.
Apparently, this was his latest attempt to convince me to come over.
Needless to say, it wasn’t particularly effective.
If anything, it served as a reminder of why things had ended in the first place.
Over the following year, Chris reached out a few more times. At one point, he blocked my number because he wanted to stop texting me.
Then he added me on Instagram. Then he sent messages telling me he missed me.
It was all very confusing.
But despite everything, I don’t have any ill will toward him.
I genuinely hope he’s happy.
Sometimes people simply aren’t meant to be together. And sometimes, the further away you get from a situation, the more grateful you become that it ended when it did.
As for me, Joe #1 was gone.
Chris was firmly in the past.
And without really realizing it, Joe #2 was becoming the only story left to tell.
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