Fish. As in, others in the sea.

I went on a date on Saturday. Or, well, it wasn't a date-date, but it ended up feeling like a date... the kind of thing that's definitely not a date, unless it becomes retroactive because you wind up together, old and gray, sitting around in your rocking chairs arguing over whether that was your first date, and really, how often does that happen? Thus, a "not-a-date"-date. I had a great time, he was really a nice guy, a friend of a friend. Then, of course, I came home and lamented the fact that I had a date-like-thing, because it reminds me that I'm dating, and I hate dating. But I'm trying to get over that, so I went on a second-date-like thing tonight (or a "second-hanging-out" or "second-not-a-date-date" or whatever the kids are calling it these days), and also had a very enjoyable evening, but then walked away confused, and realizing that I think we had both been possibly interested, but then waited on the other person to act more interested, and then both walked away not knowing whether either of us was really interested.