Sorry, Wrong Number

I’ve been ordering my groceries with Instacart ever since the pandemic started back in March. The only issue is once they’re in the building they can never seem to make it to my front door. At this point, it’s like playing hide and seek except with my groceries. Today I find my Fresh Market bags on the floor below me with my government name on them. I make it back to my studio kitchenette and put everything away. I walk into my bedroom and stare at the artwork above my bed. Right now I have a hand-painted canvas that was passed down to me from my mother’s Cape Verdean side of the family. It looks like an Orisha holding a pot that I believe to be abundance. They say if you are single and want to be in a relationship you should hang artwork above your bed that’s representative of love or a couple of some sort. I take it into consideration... Out of my growing need for romance and genuine conversation, I attempt to set a date with my Libra friend Charles. When dealing with anyone it’s important to take note of the things they choose to put their effort into. A week passes after making plans to have dinner and I have not heard from him. I follow up on the afternoon of date day. I decided the day, the place, the time, the logistics. I’m dying to go to my favorite restaurant Del Frisco’s. They have a lovely patio and it happens to be within walking distance of Charle's Buckhead condo. He responds quickly. He doesn’t want to go to a restaurant just yet. He would rather stay in and order food. I'm understanding and still cautious about being indoors with other people as well. I don’t respond just yet for some reason I'm already turned off. Moments later I open my computer and three iMessages pop up. He’s excited to tell me that he has ordered Sweet Auburn BBQ for us not realizing that I don’t eat pork. Then he asks me “What do you want to drink?” The final message “Are you canceling?” Perhaps he had well intentions. I wonder if I shouldn't concern myself with how I feel about his execution. I hate his defeated attitude before he is defeated. I can’t understand why I’m so turned off by all of this. I decide to follow his intuition and cancel the date. Is interest a valid source of relatability with a potential partner? Am I self-sabotaging what is considered normal or even romantic in this day in age? It's my belief that so-called romance is such a popular theme in movies because it’s so far-fetched. It’s a fantasy, like winning the lottery, something seemingly only for the lucky. How can I expect love to come knocking when I can’t even get my groceries?