I have a confession.

Ready?

I’ve never been on a date. Strange for an 18 year old, I know. But nevertheless, completely true.

Sure I’ve gone to dances with girls, and ‘hung out’ at football games, I love playing tennis and going shopping with them. But some strange part of me has this bias against an old fashioned sit down, dinner and a movie, “I’ll take the check,” kind of, date. I just can’t stand the idea of an awkward, forced, and un-genuine, “so what do you like to do?” conversation. The thought of having to dress up and act more cosmopolitan than I am, is nothing shy of revolting.

I’m not saying I don’t like the idea of dating. I do. I love women, maybe too much. I enjoy spending time with them, as friends or as more than friends. But the system of courtship, trying to impose itself upon my autonomy, hasn’t stuck.

I realize many people disagree. Let them. They can huddle together in their diners, and restaurants, talking about their jobs and cats. I will go paintballing.

A perfect example comes to mind; I was home from boarding school over the summer. I called one of my friends who I hadn’t seen in forever.

Korina wanted to hang out. Great! Now what to do? Diner and a movie? Please! I’d rather get a root canal together.

I decided to go to the park. No pressure. Not a ton of crowds but a few random walkers. A nice safe place to ‘hang out.’ To be honest, I wasn’t sure how she felt after two years and not so much as a “hey” from me. And people change. Last time I saw her was Sophomore year. She was just beginning to feel comfortable in her skin, starting to define her identity as an individual.

I admit, I was a little intimidated. I’d spent two years in and out of rehabs and treatment centers. She had won the state skiing competition. I’d recently just gotten my grades together to get a 3.8. She’d had a 4.0 since Freshman year. And scariest of all, I was seeing her sober.

When we had spent time together before I had hidden behind a veil of substances. Sufficiently numbed to not be worried if I said something stupid. Now, if I tripped over a crack in the street, it was all on me.