Love in Pandemic Times IV: The Importance of an In-Person Connection

*Names and certain details are changed to protect the interviewee’s privacy

You know when you learn a new word and suddenly start seeing it everywhere, as it has just begun existing in your world? Well a few weeks ago I was talking to my friend Samira about a guy she’d been virtually dating in quarantine for two months before she finally met him in person and realized the connection just wasn’t there. Maybe it shouldn’t surprise me that there’s a certain chemistry that can only be assessed face to face, but still when she told me I couldn’t help feeling skeptical. After two full months of speaking to someone nearly every day, and over video for that matter, I’d have thought she had a pretty accurate gauge of him. 

To my surprise, she compared meeting him in person to meeting an entirely different personality. He was difficult to converse with and left her to do all of the conversation teeth pulling; rather than answering her questions with a follow up, he either trailed off or kept it short. By the end of their very uncomfortable “first date”, Samira resolved that maybe her two-month fling had been nervous with anticipation, and deserved another chance to get comfortable. However, their second date was more of the same, if not worse. She explained to me that looking back, she’d observed some discomfort from him on FaceTime that contrasted her outwardly open manner, but that the screen seemed to buffer it. In person, his virtual persona simply wasn’t an accurate representation of his face to face personality. Sure I agreed, it makes sense that the barrier makes it easier for people to act confidently in ways that aren’t as comfortable in real life: flirting for instance. I, for one, can admit that I’ve sent overly confident texts that I would otherwise be terrified to say out loud. But what about the intimacy, certainly that can’t be faked? 

Samira had told me that she and her date had three-hour long phone conversations about their families and career aspirations, and had sat through entire movie marathons over FaceTime, laughing the whole time. When I hear that, I think comfort, trust, and maybe, love? But obviously there was something tangible missing: that *click* that we feel as humans when we first realize an attraction. At least I know that it’s like that for me: a click. I don’t think it has so much to do with appearance, at least not exclusively. Samira was adamant that her date was accurately handsome. For me, the things that really ascertain whether there’s a physical chemistry or not are more specific: a person’s mannerisms, their tone of speech, and eye contact- how long a person looks at you, and when they look away. 

Ok, now remember when I alluded to learning a new word and suddenly seeing it in the world? Well, Samira and her fluke date are my (new word), because a week later I underwent the same experience. I met a guy on a dating app, and proceeded to have a number of phone dates with him, all the duration of a few hours and covering a diverse range of intimate life details. I started building up a romantic fantasy in my mind, imagining meeting him in person for the first time and embracing him, kissing him, and eventually having sex with him. I assumed that because our long conversations felt so easy, we had a special connection. Then I met him in person, and just like that, the connection was gone. Pretty much instantly actually but, like Samira, I remained patient and gave this person time to adjust to the new context.

We were both very nervous, and we walked over to a shaded area to sit and eat the picnic he’d packed us, while I scrambled for conversation prompts. But nothing really landed, which is to say that each new topic died off on its own rather than transitioning into new realms of conversation. I didn’t feel giddy the way that I do when I’m attracted to someone. Instead I just felt neutral. The funny thing is that even though Samira had just described her own version of this experience to me, I was still skeptical that an intimate virtual interaction wouldn’t materialize itself in person. I asked my date if he was struggling to come up with things to talk about, which seemed to catch him off guard, though I was confident he was struggling as much as I was. So I asked him how he felt about me, now that I was right in front of him, and if it was different than he had felt over FaceTime. I wanted to give him an opportunity to weigh in, but really I was laying the foundation to admit to him that I didn’t feel the way I had anticipated; that I didn’t feel anything. I don’t usually do this in person, but I’ve been practicing being more honest with myself about feelings of attraction and intimate interactions, and I wanted to give him the respect of that honesty. My previous virtual interactions with him might have been enabled in some part by the screen, but they were accurate admissions of what I’d felt in that context, and my discomfort now was just as accurate. So instead of agreeing to a second date and cowardly texting him from home that I didn’t actually see that happening, I just told him that the chemistry wasn’t there for me. I really enjoyed the conversations we’d had previously, and would gladly continue to converse as friends, but as far as I could tell, there was no romance between us.

I think that he might have been hurt in the moment, but he didn’t by any means disagree. We’ve spoken briefly over text since, and it seems evident to me that he’s concluded a similar lack of chemistry. For me, being able to identify this lack of connection out loud is a way of developing a better sense of what I am attracted to in others, and what that attraction feels like. It’s more evident to me now that there’s something mysterious about the biochemical elements of an in person connection, unique to each person and their counterpart. Us active daters can do all the thinking in the world about a potential romantic partner, but at a certain point, there’s nothing left to do but trust your gut.