I was recently messaged by someone that I went out for brunch with last Spring. It was a Hinge date, he is something like 6’3 or so I believe. His hair is the same length as mine. He wears vans cargo pants and basic tee shirts. He is passionate about Photography. Overall an interesting and creative being.

So why is there absolutely no connection?

I am writing this to discuss “chemistry” and just how important it is.

When I first met this man I picked him up from his dorm room on campus. First thing he said to me was ” oh cool accent! Where are you from?”

I do not like this question one bit because I hate disappointing and I am born and raised in Oregon.

He was born in Brazil to a wildly adventurous and artistic family. Something about his father’s work caused them to move a few more places before ending up in the US. He knows french and a good amount of information on pop culture and arts from many different countries.

We find our way to a vegetarian and vegan brunch restaurant that I regular. And while we wait for our seat he goes in depth about a photography project he is working on. And the way that this man is passionate about his craft is truly inspiring. I love when people love what they do.

But he talked about trips, and trips (mushrooms) in New Zealand. He shows me pictures from it. And I listen.

He talks about one of his friend’s projects and shows me photos he took from it. And I listen.

He talks about hikes he took and then shows me more photographs from them. And I listen.

By the time we have eaten all our food and he ran out of photos in his camera roll, he asks “would you like to split it?”

I say “it’s cool I got it.” And this excites him. He is kind but young (we are the same age). And I feel almost happy about how little I talked. How little this man knew of me.

I drop him off. And I never reply to his text. Until a week ago when he messages me again and apologizes for “ghosting me”. I don’t argue this because he is an Aries and honestly does it really matter at the end of this life?

He asks when I will be free to get food with him again. And I remind him that I have two jobs and don’t have a ton of time. But he coaxes me in by asking if I would come over and he would cook me a vegan dinner with wine.

IM THERE!!! Literally was in a 3 year long relationship that not once did that man cook for me. Hell yes i’m letting a carnivore cook vegan food for me. I let him know I could come over after work the following week.

The day is here and I sprint home after work to get ready for this man. I change and touch up my makeup and head to the store to get him flowers for hosting.

When I show up to the house it is a gorgeous and large 1920s architecture styled home right on a hill and right below a native plant park. Gorgeous and odd layout with a whole lot of windows. I eat it up.

When I get inside he is playing classical music that has gone viral on TikTok a couple years prior, and he is stirring a pot of bowtie pasta. He tells me that he is making us some pesto noodles, I love pesto SO BAD. But after he strains the pasta and adds the pesto, the noodles aren’t green in the slightest. Like you cannot tell that there is any pesto on them. He takes a bite and says “that’s gas”………. ok

We sit down at the table and eat the bowtie noodles with a glass of wine. That is all folks. But whatever honestly. A man was cooking for me, of course I ate a snack before I headed over.

When we are done eating he walks me to his room where he shows me PHOTOS FOR LIKE AN HOUR. And mind you some are REPEATS FROM THE LAST TIME I SAW HIM. He talks about the editing process and proceeds to show me the before and after to what feels like a million pictures and when he is done with that he does the same with HIS BROTHERS PHOTOGRAPHS.

Once every single photo is looked through he says that we should watch a movie. I agree. He chooses a little artsy film of course that is not too bad actually. And we sit side by side for about two hours on his couch in his room. He hints at moving to the bed, I play dumb.

• So you see, I have been seeing a lovely Taurus man with a passion for a Rap career and flashy designer brands for about 5 months now. And during this time I have been taken on dates by men who should be exactly what i’m looking for. Men who are wild about me and send me videos of them crying because they want my attention. Men who have driven an hour to see me after a long day at work. Men who have tried to plan weekends away with me and all expenses covered by them. And i’m honestly not even sure if I deserve this. But I can’t shake this Trapstar Taurus who for some reason I feel such a bond to. We live very different lives and yet we speak the same, have similar demeanors and spend about 3 nights a week together. Like the first time this man was in my room he saw my jewelry box and says “oh so that is where you keep your chains”. Like “no bae it’s where I keep my cutie little necklaces.” I am riding out this connection to wherever it takes me because I can tell it will be important.

We stay sitting in his room after the movie is over in his cold basement room. He puts his arm around me and opens up his Spotify account. He scrolls through his own playlists and shares why each are named what they are and when he made them. And I listen.

He then decides to find my Spotify to look through mine. We have similar music tastes and he begins to quiz me on the Artists in my playlist.

“What is your favorite song by them?” followed by “Yea that is their biggest for sure.” And for some reason I am finding myself feeling self conscious over my own music taste for some reason. Once this is over and he has shown me his favorite cover of his favorite song on Youtube, he pours himself another glass of wine, pours some into my water cup that was preoccupied with water of course. I tell him I have to leave because i’m tired and I fake yawn which prompts me to actually yawn yawn.

“Would you like me to walk you up?” He lives with 4 other male roommates and he is in the basement.

“That would be lovely, thank you so much.”

When I put my shoes back on he hugs me on the way out. To sum it up, the hug is bad. And I chase the hug with a lite jog out of the house.

A creative and passionate man. He is tall and dresses like the boy version of me. He enjoys buying local art and loves surrounding his life with color. He wants to make people happy and show them that he cares about them. He plans what could’ve been the perfect date. And yet somehow there is not a thing that is drawing me to text him back yet again. There is no electricity. There is no energy between our eye contact, when it really feels like there should be.