Well, that's it then.
Two dates seems to be my going rate for people figuring me out, or at least figuring out that they have zero interest in a third. I wasn't invested enough in this guy for it to break my heart . . . it's more the idea of it, I think.
See, I know it takes way longer than that to get me. I'm kinda like one of those cool geode rocks with crystal inside, the kind with lots of layers of different colors hidden under this boring surface that pretty much just looks like rock. Chip away, and you start to see the sparkle, and keep working at it and you'll find out there's a lot more under there than you thought. But, I don't give up my secrets easily, and I definitely don't show you more than the first layer by the second date.
This is probably my chief problem, I guess. I know extremely little about modern dating. Nowadays, by the second date maybe a lot of girls already know what kind of underwear the guy wears. Me, I'm more interested in finding out if he likes Neruda or if he can appreciate the simple beauty in plain old cloud formations. I know: snore. That's me, though.
I just realized that I described myself as a fucking rock. Is that telling? Never mind, I don't care. I'm giving the dating world the finger. Both of them. Raised high and proud.
An agate geode, bitches.