My mom finally asked me about my date tonight. Dating can be a touchy subject with my family, if for no other reason than it seems to highlight an apparent "failure" in my life. I get defensive in convos about it, so I'm generally hesitant to discuss much.
I have been so lucky in my life to feel "sparks" with people. (Sparks are not grand fireworks, just small flickers of something exciting.) Each of the three loves of my life all had some magnetic, some electric quality about them that I felt. I know it's corny, but so true for me. I don't base how I feel about platonic relationships on sparks. That's not realistic. (and I would have missed out on some incredible folks in my life.) But because I've felt them before, I need them again.
I had the privilege to go on a lovely date with a very nice guy this week. He was very nice and straightforward (a refreshing change from most guys I know!), but after talking to him on the phone and in person, I felt nothing. He made it very clear that he was interested to pursue me. And despite my mother's protests, I cannot in good conscious continuing seeing someone who has feelings that I don't share. Because I have had people do that to me, and I know how it feels long term, I think it's cruel to do to others.
But in the course of the conversation with my mom, she shared that she never once felt a spark. She just didn't want to be alone.
My mom has raised my brother and I to be fiercely independent people, almost too much at times. So I couldn't help but be intrigued to hear her say no sparks. Ever. Nothing. Nada.
And I don't know what that feels like. I am not looking for a warm body to fill a space in my bed.
But I am looking for a spark. Even if it's a little one.