Throughout the entirety of the date, everything was reciprocated. There was, uncommon for me, even unprompted active flirtation from the person in question when the present conversation was not necessarily flirtatious - random sweet things.

It lasted over four hours. We talked about our intentions, our interests, our passions, our traumas. There were two hour+ phone calls prior to the date that contained much of the same personal conversation.

They asked me to kiss them, prompted only by the vibe of sitting on a park bench by a river surrounded by geese enveloped in the reflections of the sun on the ripples of said river. This has never happened to me before, I have always been the instigator - always the asker, never the asked - it was not considered a masculine or attractive trait during my childhood to be asked. I obliged. We kissed quite a few more times the rest of the night, by my initiative and theirs.

They complimented parts of myself that I hate, or at least find hard to love - my nose, my freckles, my hair. They made me feel both seen and beautiful and I did my best to reciprocate. I have not felt this way in years, I can’t remember the last time I felt this way. It is only a first date, I know this. I know this. For like 50% of the date we were laughing and planning our second date, a potential third. We had talked about how things may change the more comfortable we became with one another, like hanging out at each others’ houses. They talked about getting me a birthday present.

Date ends. Get home. We text about how wonderful the date was, when our schedules would align well next - the sooner the better. Two hours since the last message was sent, I see:

I am taken aback but I think, ok, sometimes these things happen. Rejection would be one thing. I wrote a message saying it was totally ok but I just wanted to know if it was possible to remain friends, and if they were comfortable telling me if I did anything wrong or could have done something better, but they had already blocked me on everything. I just don’t understand. I’m starting to feel like something is seriously fucking wrong with me.

We had shows we agreed to watch together, games we agreed to play, and music we agreed to share. All gone in an instant without any recourse or explanation.

Am I acting entitled? Is this an extreme reaction to something trivial? I’ve been crying for a while. I’ve always considered myself an open book but I shared deeply personal things with this person. The connection was instant and nigh tangible.

I just wanted someone or some people to talk to. Most of my friends won’t care. I’m living out of a hotel for now. I returned to this horrible, disgusting room with a smile on my face. I was ready to get some rest and do what needed to be done tomorrow with that same smile. Now it’s 2am and I just lie here staring at the ceiling through soaked eyes tuning out the hotel cable until infomercials become little more than meaningless gibberish.

I’m trying to get better. I feel so fucking alone. They probably had a good reason for ending it so abruptly. Maybe they were scared of retaliation because I’m a man. I just wish I could know why. Is this type of hurt so fucking typical for “casual” dating? I am so drained, it’s a fucked up thing to say but I wonder about chemical castration sometimes. Is there something similar for “romantic attraction”, too? Because if this is at all typical, I’m ok. Count me out. I’m an adult and I still feel like a scared little kid.