First Impressions

I think I stink at these.

I think I stink so bad at these that I have self-discovered a new syndrome.

I have entitled this syndrome, "Post-First-Date Panic."

Post-First-Date Panic, or PFDP, is characterized by excessive preoccupation with desire for a second date, intense worry over what to include in the post-date text and when to send it, inability to halt over-analysis of minute of moments of said first-date, and fixation on past first-dating history of both bad dates that led to second dates and good dates that didn't.

Are there any other PFDP sufferers out there? Any advice from recovering patients? (And please don't say patience.)

I first noticed the symptoms last year at this time, a time when I felt I was in a good place, both ready and eager for a relationship. That was when I went through a string of first dates, some better than others, but none of which led to second dates. And then there was the summer of The Boy Who Called Once A Month, the effects of which intensified my PFDP.

But I thought I had worked through it all. I thought I had told myself, "Self, this time you are okay letting the process happen. You are not going to begin doubting the possibility of a second date the moment the first date comes to an end." But my self didn't hear. Because I'm totally doing it.

We met for lunch. I was totally myself. We had good conversation. He wasn't creepy, or oddly proportioned, or off-putting in anyway. And I found myself thinking, mid-date, "Hey, I can be noticed by non-creepy, normal, nice, decent guys."

Per the advice of friends, I was clear at the end of the date that I'd be open to a second. But I can never read their reaction to that openness. Because there's always a little tentativeness behind it. Was his yes an I-agree-yes, or just an I'm-trying-to-be-nice-yes?

And I won't know until he does...or doesn't...call me again.

And in the meantime, I start wondering about the first impression that I make. Because, here it is, readers. Today, I looked good. I made pleasant conversation. I was articulate and intelligent. I was witty. I may have used too many hand motions, but I think I was just who you should be on a first date: myself. And if that's true and I don't get a second date, then...

Then someone will need to stop me from drawing the conclusion--entirely based on logical fallacy--that I make a bad first impression as myself and that I'll need to be someone else if this dating thing is ever going to work.

And then we'll have to keep working on finding the cure for PFDP. 'Cause that stuff is nasty.