It’s been a week since my second date with York, the Kiwi physicist. (Recall when I first met him, at board game night.) It must be a sign that I haven’t spent much time thinking about him since then, and much more about Alex.

I was pretty busy getting ready to go to the western hemisphere for a few weeks; so York and I finally agreed to a casual drinks-to-go while sauntering along the Thames. We met in Borough Market and walked as far as Southbank. I think we made it to 3 rounds of drinks and a truffle burger each, which is pretty good for a date. I certainly wasn’t kicking and screaming to leave.

But, as nice as he was, it felt like work to make conversation happen. I guess I didn’t feel much attraction, despite all we have in common – studying physics, extensive multi-year travel, engineering careers. And now I struggle to bring to mind many details of what we talked about.

To be fair, it was a stressful and packed day – which consisted of packing up an apartment, having lunch with a friend, going to an opera singing lesson, bringing my belongings into a new storage unit, and finally this date. Sometimes I’ve been known to pack too much in :).

Still, while talking with York was comfortable, nothing really stuck out about the evening. I did notice that he was mostly shy, but by the very end started doing small physical nudges, as if signaling he was comfortable with me and trying to open up his physical personal space. But to me, the wall was still high. It may not have helped that both of us got upset stomachs from the truffle burgers by the end. Or that, whereas I was fully inspired and transcended by the street musician playing hit songs right next to us along the Thames, he felt nothing from the music.

How important is music to me, really? The topic didn’t come up much for me when I was stuck on Xavier, or head over heels for Henry. Perhaps there are different versions of ourselves we can be equally comfortable expressing. Still working this one out.