The Fine Line between “Good Companion” and “Romantic Interest”

Good news, I’m alive. The girl from Tinder was not a serial killer.

Avoiding the word “date” since we never established that’s what it was (but also, c’mon.), I had a lot of fun with her. It was a nice and light-hearted day out peppered with jokes, coffee, chicken and waffles, and topped off with Sisters.

Like the archetype of a Canadian lesbian, she plays hockey. She regaled me with stories about her university days when she lived in a house with ten other hockey girls, and on the hockey team at least half the team comprised lesbians (one year, of the 25 members, only four were straight. Heavenly).

We went for coffee first and talked a bit more about ourselves, got to know each other better. We got each other’s sarcasm almost immediately and we had the same humour – there was no slowing down or restraining ourselves to be cordial. It made our non-date so much more fun.

She was indecisive. Like me,  she couldn’t decide if she wanted to get food first or go shopping. We made three U-turns on foot in the middle of the street that day. I’m definitely over-thinking this but I’d have to be the decisive one if we ‘kept going’.

There were a few moments when we were sat down and I had run out of immediate things to ask. It’s not that I thought there were awkward pauses, but I was just surprised she didn’t take them as cues to ask something else. With anybody, when that happens, I turn away.

I suggested to her that we watch Sisters since we’d been counting down to it for a while. She was thrilled about the idea and we went to the theatres across the street from my place. We laughed til we cried.

At the end of our non-date when she had to meet up with her friend for drinks, we hugged goodbye. I said I had a good time  (truthfully) and told her to text me when she met up with her friend.

This was last Saturday and we’ve been texting every day since. Still, as I’ve confided in my friends, it’s such a fine line for us between a “good companion” and “romantic interest”. There have been a few, fleeting moments when my heart beat a second faster having read a text from her. But I’m not obsessing over her, I’m not obsessing over the idea of being with her… I just like her company.

Our text messages are cute but not romantic. And I don’t think I’d want them to be. I don’t know. I don’t even know if this is worth continuing. I wish I could suggest to her that we just be wingwomen for one another, but I don’t know how she feels about the whole thing, and I don’t even know if that’s what I want either.

Ugh.

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