Fleeting thoughts

cute lil story about my first situationship

 “I’m not looking for anything serious,” his words cut through the darkness.

Reality seeped in, taking me away from the moment. It was 5 pm on a beautiful Sunday afternoon in November and I was lying in bed with a boy I had just met. I would eventually get to know him and affectionately refer to him as jager guy, in part because when you’re 22 using a boy’s name when discussing him with your friends is too intimate, and also because we blacked out drinking jagermeister on our second date. But at that point I didn’t know him, so I was essentially in bed with a stranger. A stranger who already knew he wasn’t that interested in me.

It was November of 2020 and this was the first date I had been on since permanently breaking up with my on-again-off-again boyfriend of 8 years. More accurately it was the first date I had ever been on with a guy other than my ex, which meant I had no idea what I was doing. Most girls use college as a time to figure out how to approach dating, maneuvering through hookups and situationships and even a relationship or two if the stars align, to emerge into their twenties with the kind of self-assuredness that can only come after learning from heartbreaks, bad dates, and messy one night stands. I missed all of that, instead convinced that I was going to marry my high school boyfriend (which surprisingly did not happen) and now I was paying the price for my naivety.

It had started innocently enough, with wine and a picnic at Logan Circle. Some would even venture to call it picturesque, like a romance novel come to life, me on my first date as an adult on a crisp fall day with a 6’3 boy who looked like he could be Timothy Chalamet if the picture was taken from really really far away. But after an hour or two of wine, I realized I had to pee. And not the kind of urge you could ignore. If I didn’t pee fast I would be having the first accident of my adult life to top off my big, memorable day of firsts. So with all the grace and poise I could muster I said, “this was great but I really need to leave and pee before I pee my pants.” Too stressed to be mortified, I grabbed my stuff and got ready to sprint to the nearest CVS.

“You can pee at my place, it’s a few blocks away.” 

I looked up. That wasn’t the answer I was expecting after ruining my cool girl facade by admitting to a faulty bladder. But as I weighed my options, I realized that I didn’t know where a CVS was or if their bathrooms were even open given covid restrictions. And I didn’t think this guy was going to murder me, but if he did I wouldn’t have to spend the rest of my life being embarrassed about the last five minutes. 

“Okay.”

By some miracle, I made it to the bathroom. I only realized the gravity of the situation when I started washing my hands. A boy that I was on a date with had asked me to go to his house, and I had said yes. I knew the implications of “come back to my place.” But this had been an emergency, unplanned and unpreventable so surely he was just trying to save me in my moment of despair? 

Apparently not, because after I left the bathroom we went to his roof which had a nice view of the city and was also a nice place to kiss and then kissing led to more things and then suddenly I was in his room, in the dark saying “I didn’t expect this” but not mad that it was happening, and then he said “what did you think was going to happen,” pointing out the blaringly obvious fact that this was actually a very probable outcome given that we were two single twentysomethings who had met on bumble (of all places) and ended up back at his house.

And then he topped it off with, “I’m not looking for anything serious.” 

When you’re 22 and the only thing you’ve ever done is be in a relationship, no one warns you to be cool when a guy tells you he doesn’t see this going very far while you’re still in his bed. I mustered an “oh” and went home.

Later, my friends congratulated me on my “first casual hookup.” I was excited too, that I had gone out and tested the waters. Despite the jarring end to the night, jager guy was nice and clear about what he wanted and I had the opportunity to take it or leave it. But I had no idea what I wanted. I had jumped back into dating without thinking about what I was looking for. Casual was something I had seen many friends experience and enjoy, but it had never crossed my radar. I knew a lot about big feelings but I didn’t know very much about not having them at all. But having just ended one relationship I wasn’t rushing to start another, so maybe now was the perfect time to learn. 

When jager texted a few days later, I answered, marking the beginning of my very first situationship.

I quickly learned the rules. We texted every day but never “good morning” or “good night,” as those would suggest that you cared too much. He texted me an Eagles reference in a new Taylor Swift song when it came out because he knew I liked Taylor and I knew he liked the Eagles but I waited 4 hours to respond and he waited 8 after that because we didn’t care that much. I went over to his house and we listened to music that we liked and I told him he had pretty eyes and he said he liked my hair and we never said anything nicer to each other than that because that was already teetering on the edge of caring too much. 

It was super easy and super fun and not confusing at all. Everyone should be casual!

The holidays came and I flew home to see my parents. Jager’s name would still light up my phone, sharing updates about things that didn’t matter that much, to which I would happily respond with things that mattered even less. My mom sensed that something was up and was excited to hear that I had been on dates. But when I failed to elaborate, she was unsatisfied.

“Are you doing that thing kids do where they’re just hooking up?” she asked. 

I must have hesitated too long because she immediately started laughing and said, “you totally are!” before moving on to grill my sister.

I didn’t hesitate because I was afraid to tell her the truth; I knew my mom didn’t care about the answer. I hesitated because by all definitions we were just hooking up, but it didn’t really feel like that. It kind of felt like a relationship. He knew my sisters’ names and would ask about them, he listened to me explain the Olivia-Josh-Sabrina driver’s license fiasco with enthusiasm, he carried me to bed when we drank too much jager and it kind of maybe seemed like those were things that People Who Were Not Just Hooking Up did. But questioning whether your casual fling was actually casual didn’t seem like a very casual thing to do so I pushed the thoughts away…

Until he was the first person to text me at midnight on New Years and I felt my heart flutter a little bit. Then when he came to my house the first day we were back in DC because “I was excited to see you,” I felt my heart flutter more than a little bit. The big feelings I was pretending not to have crept in. I was failing at not caring and I felt stupid for thinking that maybe, in another life where jager wasn’t so set on not caring about me, we could be very happy together. And then I tried to give myself the ick by remembering when I woke up one morning and found his frat composite from three years ago on his nightstand. When that didn’t work, I settled for continuing whatever the fuck we were doing while silently hoping that maybe his mind would change.

But it didn’t.

My first situationship ended as quickly as it started, with him ghosting me without much fanfare shortly before Valentine’s Day. He was not the person I was supposed to marry or share big feelings with or share anything with really, which is exactly the expectation he set from day one. He was just the guy I saw after my ex, the guy who taught me about hookups and situationships and how effortlessly cool it is to not care. I moved on and continued going on dates with more confidence now that I understood relationships and not relationships and all of the things in between. But I never let myself have a casual fling again. I wasn’t very good at the not caring part. 

Several months later, when a guy said “I’m not looking for anything serious,” I knew he meant it.