It was easy to dismiss his looks as too pretty, brush off his best photos as calculated and professional, tricks of light. But when those two gray-green eyes were trained on you, even just in a sidelong glance, it was quite different. All at once you were more aware of your breathing and your heartbeat, as if they were things that suddenly needed to be contained.
These very mixed messages firing off in my brain — logic trying to talk me out of even thinking of moving forward, but very visceral memories of a couple of fleeting moments — made me wonder about a broader question: Is it wrong to go out with someone who seems nice and interesting, but who you have no real romantic interest in? I certainly had that spark of curiosity about him, but it was piled on top of a whole lot of skepticism.
A couple of deal-breakers were already within view: bi-coastal-ism, the types of people he was friends with (one of the perils of adding someone on facebook before you’ve ever gone out with them is too much information, too soon, but that’s a post for another day), and his job. That last one sounds incredibly judgmental and shallow, I know. It does to me too. But if you knew what it was you’d probably agree. The general reaction among friends has been “oh…. ugh.”
But in the middle of this slow retreat from even giving things a chance, I had to stop myself. Was I just being too cynical? Wasn’t it even possible that he was just a nice guy; aren’t there some people who aren’t defined by what they do? I’ve made this realization before, and you’d think it would have stuck. I had to go back to our first conversation, and it certainly wasn’t boring. There have been months of his persistence despite my subtle brush-offs. So maybe it’s worth a tiny chance, if only to indulge my curiosity.