Gray Spaces

Photo by Madalyn Cox on Unsplash

I went into our first date like I did most of mine – with low expectations and a backup plan that created an easy exit. 

It was four months into the world being shut down and my two best friends had become my social bubble – coming over for dinners, game nights and impromptu high-kick dance parties. After months of not dating anyone, I was slowly swiping my way back into possibilities again, uncertain how to navigate dating in a global pandemic. 

A handsome, dark-haired man’s profile caught my eye, and after exchanging a few messages here and there with no real sense of urgency, we decided to meet for cocktails at the restaurant below my apartment.

As the date approached, my friends wanted to come over and cook dinner that same night. Assuming my date would be a flop, I told them I needed to have a quick happy-hour drink and then I’d be up to join them.

I slipped downstairs and met him at the restaurant bar. While the details aren’t sharp, I remember being pleasantly surprised by his energy - his excitement as he told stories, his voice getting louder and his eyes wider as he went. It was infectious and I found myself ordering a second drink as we’d finished the first.

While the vast majority of my dates leave me ready to go after just one drink, I was curious to learn more about this man and intrigued enough to hope for a second date. And after parting ways to join my friends, we soon made plans to meet again.

We dated a few weeks, each date equally enjoyable. He was refreshingly honest and it was easy to see who exactly was in front of me. It wasn’t a quality I took for granted. As time passed, we realized we had a few important values we didn’t align on, and I suggested maybe we were better off friends.

He agreed. 

I assumed it would be short-lived and I’d eventually never see him again.

But he surprised me yet again, and we began grabbing dinners, watching movies, binging TV shows, and going to random events together. He joined me for gatherings with my friends and began to meet my neighbors.

In the beginning it stayed platonic, but eventually the line blurred.

My dating mentality up until this point had become very black and white. Each date either was, or was not, someone I saw a future with. If it was the latter, I wasted no time in parting ways and saving my energy and emotion for someone I saw potential in. Maybe this mindset served as a coat of armor in some ways after years of failed relationships and getting my hopes up. Get out before I get hurt by someone who wasn’t even right for me in the long run.

But with him, I found myself deviating from my strict behaviors and settling somewhere in between. Even if we didn’t see a future together, it was hard for me not to enjoy the present. It was nice to have someone who I could text without overanalyzing, to make plans with and invite places. After years of showing up on my own to nearly everything in life, it was fun to sometimes fall into glimpses of a “we.”

I have never been one to have casual relationships, but with him it felt different. I cared about him, and felt cared for by him. I respected him and found his company easy to enjoy. And naturally over time, I slipped further into the gray. A space that for me was without commitment but far from casual. 

With him it was easy and we got along great. We existed without labels and with honesty and transparency. We rarely argued or fought because, in my opinion, nothing real was on the line. I tolerated behaviors in him that would bother me in a significant other because I knew he was not and would not become that. This mindset allowed me to let him show up authentically in my life without correction. 

My friends would sometimes press me after seeing us together. 

Why don’t you try to actually date him? Just see what happens?

I would roll my eyes. Sometimes I felt almost defensive. 

To try to make it real was to admit that it’s not.

While I openly knew this, I also knew things that aren’t real almost always eventually crumble. It was never his intention nor mine for it to last as it was, yet I felt hesitant to fully shut down some of the sporadic perks of having his companionship transition only to friendship. It was more than that while being less than a defined relationship.

It was gray. 

A younger me would have wanted to change him; would have needed a label or definition of ‘what we were.’ I might have pretended to hear him with the intention of changing his mind, or felt shame for existing in the shadows of what I truly wanted. 

But in this season of life, I enjoyed him at face value. I listened when he told me what he wanted. I didn’t pretend to want the same. 

This unique relationship has been a reminder to me that life is never as black and white as I often try to make it. Gray seeps into so many areas, spilling over into the neat spaces I try to create and maintain.

I’ve carelessly uttered, “I’d never” until life challenges me - changes me - and I find myself second guessing the truths I’d always walked with.

I knew what I’d stumbled into with this man was not sustainable. It could not and would not last with us both ultimately wanting opposing results from a lasting courtship.

But it was a lesson learned in stepping away from absolutes. It was practice in listening to another and to myself and deciding what felt healthy and right in that moment. 

I hope I continue to find humans who spark joy and curiosity and connection – because those three things make the mess and the gray and the journey worth it in the end. 

And one day, I hope we both find what we both are looking for.

Even if it will never be each other.