I went on a romantic getaway with a guy I'd just started dating. I realized he wasn't into me in the middle of the trip.
After five dates with a guy, I was excited to go on a short, romantic trip together.
During the trip, there were awkward moments, and he felt distant.
I realized he was not interested in me, and we parted ways when we got home.
After five or so dates, I thought I'd finally found someone I genuinely liked. He was intelligent, clever, and loved architecture and art —which I found heavily attractive. He came at things with a confident humbleness that I enjoyed being around.
He was the first guy I'd liked since moving to Barcelona. Each time we met, I felt butterflies in my stomach and flustered whenever his arm brushed against mine. I was taking things slow since I had some trauma I was still working through, and I felt like he could sense that and was perfectly fine with the pace.
On our last date, I brought up the idea of traveling together. I enjoy traveling, especially since Europe is my new backyard. He agreed, and I suggested we explore a vineyard near Valladolid.
We planned to take the train there, but the tickets were too expensive. We agreed that flying would hurt the environment (a tidbit that made me like him even more) and settled on renting a car. The drive was six hours one way.
The getaway started with a long road trip, but something was off
At what felt like the crack of dawn, I woke up and quickly got ready for our journey. Walking out of my apartment, I couldn't help smile as I saw him waiting for me on the corner of the street. He was waiting outside and helped me with my luggage. I wanted to kiss him then and there, but I figured it was too early to make a move.
Once on the road, we made one quick coffee break at a road stop about an hour from Barcelona. During coffee, I noticed him acting a little different, but I just chalked it up to the long road trip and the time. Either way, we spoke the entire trip, and it felt like I was getting to know him better.
We arrived at Abadía Retuerta and were shocked at how beautiful the property was. The vineyards were already dry, but the grounds oozed luxury and romance. Swiftly checking into our room, we again gasped at how luxurious our lodging was.
The most exciting part was the terraces, which had views of the entire vineyard. Walking over to check it out, I felt him do the same, and at one point, I felt tension as we looked out from the terrace. A billion thoughts raced through my mind, and I wasn't sure whether this was the right moment to seal the deal. I didn't kiss him.
The tension became palpable through the rest of the trip
For lunch, we headed to one of the on-site dining options. It had recently been renovated, and everything felt new. Conversing over wine, I could feel a tension between us, but I couldn't place where it was coming from. It didn't feel romantic, and I wondered whether it had anything to do with me missing the mark on the terrace.
After lunch, we walked around the grounds, exploring the ancient cloisters and church. Once we got to the vineyards, I could sense a distance between him and me. He would walk ahead of me at moments, and after becoming aware, he would walk back to me. It felt like he was in his own world. I again chalked it up to the long drive.
The next night, the hotel reserved two seats at the Refectorio restaurant. Housed in part of the ancient church, this place was beautiful. It felt like it was part of a baroque William Shakespeare play. It also had two Michelin stars, one green.
Still not feeling any connection, I felt like I had made a big mistake inviting him. He could barely look at me, and it felt like the only energy I got from him was when we discussed dinner that night. He was more interested in the restaurant than me. Either way, I thoroughly enjoyed myself.
I realized he wasn't into me
By then, it was clear our connection had run its course, but I decided to take advantage of where we were — even if I was with bad company. The multicourse meal was exactly what I needed as I realized the guy I admired was here only for the experience — not for me. There was an interest, but I wasn't part of it.
The drive back to Barcelona was quiet. I chose to fall asleep to avoid speaking, and when we arrived at my place, I thanked him for the ride and wished him a good life. He responded in Catalan, but I didn't care enough to translate.
I found someone I liked, but they were too polite to tell me they didn't want me back.
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