It's Not You, It's Not Me

"Thank you, really, for thinking of me, but he's just not for me."
 
"But why don't you want to go out with him again?" 

"Thank you, really, for thinking of me, but he's just not for me."

"But why?"

I keep verbally dancing back and forth, continuing to thank, refusing to detail. Please don't make me say why. 

What I really, really, really hate about dating is how it forces me to judge people. I, the self-professed loather of labels, am now the owner of a theoretical label-maker. 

"Eeeeeh, look at his information. He's way too yeshivish/modern/I don't know what that is, but it's not me." 

"Eeeeeh, look at his Facebook page. Look how he chooses to present himself, knowing girls who are redt to him will see this." 

"Eeeeeh. Just 'eeeeeh.'"

Some things can't be articulately defined. Very often, I have a sense before the date, but it's not a valid enough excuse to opt out, so go on the date anyway. And, I was . . . right. 

"But why?" 

 People rarely believe me, but when I went on my first date at 19, I had it all figured out: Marriage is based on a choice, and therefore I can marry anyone and make a good life. 

B'H, I got wise. Eventually.

Yes, marriage does involve choice, but it is also a wee bit more complicated than that (the Gemara backs that up). It's not so simple, whatever anyone says. Matching up two people for life shouldn't be simple, if you think about it.

I want to be able to crawl through this minefield without beredting anyone. Let's be honest, beredting will happen. Maybe one out of twenty was a wonderful guy but just not for me. The other nineteen . . . well, what did I ever do to them to get treated like discarded gum? 

Don't demand that I explain my reasons, just to defend them point by point. This is not a debate. Issues won't magically evaporate in a "Well, in that case . . ."

I will thank you for thinking of me. And I am (often) very grateful. Someone made a potentially awkward effort on my behalf, and I do appreciate it. 

Your suggestion has someone out there for him who will not have the complaints that I do. She won't be bothered by what I am bothered. She will be able to drop the label-maker, smashing it to bits. 

Which is what I want to do.