Date? Hanging out? Who knows.

The line between dating and hanging out, is a fuzzy one. I feel like no matter who I describe outings with the opposite sex to, no matter how I describe them, only two responses are elicited:

“Oh so you guys just hung out?”
“Wow, sounds like that was a date!”

This happens so often to me that I feel like it’s not really a dating life I’m leading, but rather, a spending-a-substantial-amount-of-time-with-the-opposite-sex life. It’s a mouthful, I know. In my earlier days of spending-substantial-amounts-of-time-with-the-opposite sex, I used to always stress out over whether or not I had experienced…a date. Instead of fretting over the mystery, I’ve gradually resolved to accepting things as they were. Sure, this is frustrating but I’ve grown used to this and am pretty relaxed when it comes to dating. Or doing things that resemble dating.

The last male I spent a substantial amount of time with, was someone my peers persistently asked me about just because they knew I was totally into this guy. I’d met him two years ago at a friend’s house party. From then I decided that I’d wanted to pursue something with him. He fit a lot of the criteria I have for someone I’d date; taller than me, witty, similar interests, family person, stylish…overall a cool guy.

Just recently, after two years of casual interaction facilitated by mutual friend social functions, he asked me for my number and a time (or a date) was scheduled with each other. You better believe I was SUPER excited for this. I had a fun time with him, we had dinner, dessert and he even made me a mixed CD of favorite songs and TV shows. It was a lot of fun until right around the end of this date he said, “I’d like to do this again.”

This.

To which I responded, “Sure I’d like to do this again, too.” Ha, touché!
I explained this to my friends and the general consensus was that this guy was into me. This had been a date. Later on, it became apparent to me that this wasn’t a date but just…hanging out. He never called. Not like he’d been in the habit to call, he’d relied on Facebook and certainly was not a shy person. I’d also heard that he was after someone else.

When I sent an email informing friends I’d be moving away, he responded saying that he was happy for me and that it was necessary to hang out again. Without specifying when and in the most ambiguous manner possible, so that it wasn’t up to me or him to initiate a time, of course.

It was then that I’d decided I was over it. Like tight girl jeans on guys. Me declaring game over came as something of a shock to my friends. “But you were into him for so long, what happened?” This happened. And by this, it’s pretty clear that he wasn’t into me or he gave up because of the news of my future departure. And still, nothing can stop my friends from urging me to disregard the signs and actions and to just continue chasing after him. This, I refuse to do.

To me, if I don’t put my foot down, it’ll suck for the one person that won’t want to hang out or be friends, but actually ask me out on a date.

Hope — I have it.