many first dates, late twenties

2:11

Hello reader,

Writing from a friend’s bed on a weekday morning—the girls and I have been indulging in sleepovers like we did when we were seven, fifteen, twenty-two. The twenty-year-old on staff at the cafe said she would have guessed I was her age, but yesterday, I saw the woman who’s shot me in vintage since I was—and eyes on myself in her big, gilded mirror, I said, I look like I’ve grown up, don’t you think? (she only laughed).

I’ve been thinking about age, I guess. Also guilt, and also first dates—I’ve been going on lots.

I was inspired by a friend who went on three dates a week, and she wrote about them through secret posts on a finsta and asked her close friends to pick favorites for data purposes (Capricorn, before you ask). I’m not writing posts, but I take notes in my journal: name, what we talked about, where we went, whether I found, in surprise, that they had me kind of charmed.

Boys can be cute! Likable! Interested in the correct things to find interesting about me. That’s what I’m learning (I haven’t done this very long, and I’m going to need to take a break, I’m getting a overwhelmed, and you know—the end of the story with my friend is that she met her husband in six months, and that idea makes me nervous, I think. Am I doing this to find a husband? I can’t say, but my instinct is no.)

Listen, reader! I tell these guys I’m looking for “lighthearted” dates. A few I liked never texted me after, which is fine—good, even! Less complicated. ChatGPT said I’m still looking at each date as a potential long-term match, which is antithetical to my intentions (which are…)

What I’m LEARNING is that isn’t that hard to find someone you get along with. In the past I’ve felt compelled to grip onto a man because we liked each other. What else is it I’m supposed to be looking for, I wonder?

Hope you don’t mind me speaking so plainly of BOYS. I’m hosting a cacao ceremony in the cafe this weekend (no idea how it will play out). It’s technically my weekend and through my friend’s blinds, it’s drizzly. I’ve been wondering about a rainy day at the museum.

Tell me about your sense of guilt and dating life, reader!

Hope it’s a good day. Missed you.

Yours,

Z