Dear Mr. Joker,
Though dating should supposedly be fun, it at times can be frustrating, disappointing, and energy consuming. At times I’ve had to search deeply for a little bit of hope, and motivate myself to get on a dating site again to go through endless profiles hoping for that special match. There are plenty of articles that tell you how to maximize your chances by designing your profile a certain way, or giving tips on the content of those first introductory messages. My personal annoyances? A single ‘Hi’, or a plain ‘Nice pics’. So you can imagine my relief when I saw your smart message and literally laughed out loud. Not the overused LOL to indicate that something was funny. But a true out loud laugh. And you know that mine can indeed be loud.
You had my attention with your wit, wordplay and intelligence. And when we met, I instantly felt at ease as you made me smile when hearing your voice forming words for the first time. Time flew, and the smile never left my lips. The following dates were equally as fun, but I noticed I was hesitant to kiss you. The awkwardness was breezily brushed away by you with a joke. Another joke.
It’s ‘funny’ to see that what attracted me in the first place, was actually driving a wedge between us. Because I started to realize that you responded to all my bids for intimacy with a joke. Every time that happened, your witty comment, play of words, or cliché and admittedly funny joke fell between us like a brick. It started to annoy me that your personal stories were always made into humorous anecdotes. And that when I tried to share something with you, I constantly got interrupted by you trying to make fun (or at least light) of whatever I was sharing. I’m sorry, but though I’m smiley and hugely enjoy the feeling of almost peeing my pants with laughter, I do know that not everything is a joke.
Laughter bonds. Humor is sexy. Smiles are seductive.
But laughter, humor and smiles can also be used to hide vulnerability, or to avoid intimacy. In that case, it’s void of its uplifting qualities, and just drowns out your personality. And that is what I wanted to see: you. Not just your wit, but also your tears. Your fears. Your doubts. Your hopes. Your questions. You. So leave a little space for a door, or at least a window, between those bricks. That way if you hear “knock knock” you can ask with honest curiosity “who’s there?” and let them in.
With an encouraging smile,