I recently bumped into this guy whose date I’ve turned down a few months ago. And if you recall, it wasn’t because I didn’t like him – he’s actually quite the eligible bachelor. Anyway, he asked me out again, and since I do enjoy his company, I figured why not.

He was working late that night, so we made plans to meet up afterwards. I got done from work earlier than he did and decided to eat something light prior to our date. That ‘something light’ turned out to be an order of fries (no surprise haha) and just as I was reaching my hand into the bag for some fries – my phone rang. It was him informing me that he got done earlier than expected.

I was happy to hear this, of course, but I was also a little disappointed as I looked down at my bag of fries which I had just ordered. I don’t know about you but for me the consumption of fries is almost a holy ritual which cannot be done in a rush, and definitely need to take place while vegging out on the couch. So I stuffed a few fries in my mouth and decided I would save the rest for later. I remember thinking this date better be worth leaving a bag of fries for!

Anyhow, we met up, we had a pleasant time and the conversation flowed naturally. He was even more charming than I remember, and sparks were flying in all direction.

You must be wondering what happened next.

Well, in the fairytale version, it probably ends with a long walk and a romantic declaration of love. And this would mark the start of our ‘happily ever after’.

But this is real life, and this is how it actually ended:

After a long talk, we came to a mutual agreement that while we liked each other very much, we were both really not ready for something more. It would be too complicated to even start anything, given where we both are in our lives. So we decided to be friends. It was all very diplomatic and there were no hard feelings. Then he paid the bill, dropped me home, and that was that.

Was I hoping for a fairytale ending? I guess the little girl in me probably was, but the skeptical grown-up me already knew how it would end. And I was okay with it – I didn’t feel sad or disappointed. I knew that even if it wasn’t a fairytale ending, it was the ending that made perfect sense.

But do you want to know what the best part of the night was?

It was when I came home and finally got to veg out on my couch while pigging out on fries πŸ™‚

That’s when I realized I didn’t need a man waiting for me at home; it was far more fulfilling to come home to fries, as silly as it sounds. And I guess sometimes this is the best kind of ending – not the typical fairytale ending but your very own perfect ending.