There's a friendzone for a reason.

There is a running joke between one of my best friends and I. Whenever a new guy comes into the picture, she will ask, "Is he preeeetttty?" I can't help but be smitten with a handsome guy. I can't help it; I'm human. Now that my friend has pointed out my tendency to get sucked in by looks so easily, I am more aware of this weakness. This awareness made me step away from my clearly defined "type," and that choice starts my next dating tale.

There was a friend of mine that I happened across on a dating site. RB was not really my type. He was not a pretty boy. In fact, he was the opposite. He had many tattoos and a beard and was a bit scruffy. Facial hair has never been something I've been overly attracted to; in fact, I prefer the clean-shaven type. So when we chatted occasionally and checked in on how our respective dating lives, it was a totally platonic exchange. He had mentioned that we should hang out since we live fairly close to one another. I never took him up on the offer when I was in a relationship. After I became single again, I contacted him to see if he wanted to hang out and see a movie we were both interested in. He replied in the affirmative, and we started texting. That communication became a daily occurrence.

In my mind, RB was still just a friend. We used to hang out on the regular, and he was easy to talk to. In fact, we had much in common. We watched the same shows and movies, we both had beautiful daughters, and we both liked playing games, for instance. So the prospect of having another friend to spend time with was all I saw coming from our communication. During one late night text session, he revealed that he had been into me since we first met, but I had been involved at the time. He said he had a "butterflies in the stomach" crush on me. I still wasn't sure I was ready to exit the friendzone with him, but as two weeks of communicating flew by, I was starting to be more and more interested in him as more than just a friend.

When the night of our first date arrived, I was over-the-moon excited. Over the weeks leading up to our date, our messages had turned flirty. RB would send sweet messages at random times, and he always remembered to tell me good morning and good night. We shared much about our lives, pasts, children, and just day-to-day things. When we met each other at the theatre, we embraced in a big hug and spent the half hour prior to the movie talking and catching up. I had been extremely nervous and hoped that it wouldn't be weird going on a date with my once-friend. My worries were unfounded. It felt as if we had been on a million dates already. We held hands while enjoying the movie; it was so sweet.

We parted ways after the movie, and I was on cloud nine. The next day, we texted while he was working and both agreed that we had a great time together and couldn't wait for the next time. Things changed the following day which happened to be a Sunday. RB woke later than normal as it was his day off; we spent an hour messaging, and then I didn't hear from him for hours, about eight to be exact. I finally got a Facebook message from him that explained that his daughter had gotten sick, and his phone wasn't working.

Unfortunately, he got sick the following day and did not communicate very much. Ever since the day his phone broke, nothing felt the same. He hardly ever contacted beyond a good morning text. In the weeks prior, we would spend hours at night talking about all kinds of topics. Those messages stopped completely. It was a rarity that I would hear from him after he got off work. Each and every Sunday, he would be MIA most, if not all, of the day.

Despite being reassured by a guy friend of mine that his behavior was not alarming, I just felt something was off. We had talked about getting together again two weeks after our initial date. As that time approached, he wouldn't commit to a day to spend time together. Friday night rolled around, and we were texting when he just stopped, and I didn't hear from him again until the morning. He posted a picture of him and a friend on social media at a party. The following day, he sent the usual good morning text and remained silent the whole day until I initiated a conversation with him in the afternoon.  He told me he was planning to go home and relax. Again, he disappeared for the remainder of the night.

After this second night of no contact, I made a decision. I did not like how his behavior had changed so drastically. My gut was telling me something was wrong. So I sent him a message and told him something had changed, and he was off the hook. He did not respond (and I still haven't heard from to this day). He did, however, post a picture of himself at another party Saturday night when he had said he was going home to hang out.

I will never know what happened, and that will annoy me if he ever crosses across my mind. Luckily, that doesn't happen very often. I did learn that attraction can come in many shapes and forms and not to rule anyone out because he's not my usual type or "preeeetttty."

At least the pizza was good.

I spent the better part of a year and half trying to force a relationship to work that just wasn't going to; it was as if I was forcing a square peg into a round hole, and I did not feel happy most of the time. Now, I find myself once again single. Over the past few months, I've contemplated whether or not to start writing again, but after a particularly disappointing episode, I decided I need the therapy that writing provides me. Getting my experiences down in print is so cathartic.

Given my past misadventures in dating, I am much more cautious and have a much higher guard up with new men. I am listening to my gut and watching for those red flags and getting out much sooner when men don't act as they should. As such, I am not dating as much. I am also spending more time with my girlfriends and trying new things.

The first post break-up date I went on was with a strikingly handsome man. We shall call him Marshall. He was a foreign exchange student working on his PhD at a nearby university. We messaged on Facebook for a while and finally set a time to meet. We decided to have lunch at a unique pizza place a friend suggested. We were set to meet at Marshall's apartment parking lot and go to lunch together. When I arrived, I texted him. He came rushing out minutes later in a state of disarray. He had water spots on his shirt, and his shoes weren't even tied.  It looked as if he had barely made it out of the shower and gotten dressed before my arrival. I understand running late, so I didn't think much about his harried appearance. We walked to his car, and he hopped in without opening my car door. While I think chivalry should still be exercised, the sad truth is that most men don't open doors and pull out chairs and practice other such gestures. So while I did notice the lack of opening the door, it didn't bother me too much.

The drive to lunch was quick and painless. We talked about his home country and work as well as my family and career.  Upon arriving at the restaurant, we had to wait a short while and continued talking. It wasn't until we were seated and had ordered our lunch that I started to get truly annoyed. If you know me, you know that I love to talk and be in contact with my friends and love my phone. But when I'm on a date, it goes on silent and stays in my purse until we part. Marshall pulled his phone out to show me a picture and once he did that, he stayed on it for the duration of our meal. Strike one! I should have called him out on the rude behavior, but I wanted to eat and get out of their ASAP. I remained polite, and we left promptly after finishing lunch.

On the drive home, Marshall started to complain about the driving habits of people in the town he lived in. He made a racial remark which was definitely rude. Strike two. Quickly following this comment, a car cut him off; he laid into the horn and yelled angrily at the other driver. I would never say that I am perfect and wouldn't get upset while driving, but a first date is not the time to show your road rage. Strike three!

He dropped me off at my car, and we went our separate ways. Neither of us tried contacting the other, and no more has been heard from Marshall.