He Thinks You’re Amazing. Slight Problem: He Barely Knows You

There is something flattering about being admired by someone you like. There is also something slightly confusing about being admired at full volume by someone who has known you for eleven days.

You have had two dinners, one long phone call, and perhaps a coffee. He already thinks you are extraordinary. Not merely attractive or interesting, but unusually special, exactly what he has been looking for, completely different from everyone else, and possibly the woman he has somehow been waiting for since birth.

This is a lot of confidence from a man who may not yet know your middle name.

At first, it can feel romantic because admiration is pleasant, especially when it arrives looking delighted to see you. But there comes a point when the compliments begin to sound less like discovery and more like advance publicity. He has barely opened the book, and somehow the five-star review is already online.

That is the strange part of being adored too quickly. The excitement may be completely real, but excitement is very good at filling in missing information. A few appealing details appear, the imagination joins the conversation, and before long an entire woman has been created from three dates, one excellent dress, and the fact that you both dislike raisins in desserts.

She is wonderful, this imaginary woman. She is effortless, fascinating, affectionate, sexy, emotionally perfect, and strangely free of the habits that usually begin appearing around month three. Naturally, you have not met her either.

Meanwhile, your admirer may be becoming president of a fan club for a person who is still being invented in his own mind. Membership is growing quickly. There may soon be newsletters.

None of this means the feelings are fake. People get excited about possibilities all the time, and early attraction gives possibility plenty of empty space to decorate. At the beginning, there are still so many things nobody knows.

He does not know how you behave when you are tired, whether you go quiet when annoyed, what your mother does to your blood pressure, how you handle money, or whether wet towels on the bed strike you as a minor inconvenience or an act requiring a formal investigation. He knows the charming beginning; the ordinary parts have not arrived yet.

That gap can produce a very odd feeling. You are sitting across from someone who seems thrilled by you, which should be delightful, yet part of you is thinking, *But which version of me are we discussing?* You have somehow become both the woman on the date and the person fact-checking her own glowing press coverage.

That is why being adored too quickly can sometimes feel strangely impersonal. The praise is aimed directly at you, yet the person speaking could not possibly know enough to be this certain. You are being celebrated for qualities you have barely had time to show.

Then the future begins sneaking into the conversation. “You would love my friends.” “We should go there this winter.” “My family would adore you.” None of these sentences is outrageous by itself, but together they can create the odd feeling that your biography is being written while you are still introducing yourself.

Again, nobody has to be plotting anything. Some people become attached to potential very easily. They notice a handful of things they like and their imagination happily completes the set. Others are simply loud with enthusiasm. A person can be sincere, kind, and wildly premature at the same time.

The interesting part comes when the real person begins appearing. Real people have moods, boring weekends, inconvenient preferences, old habits, strong opinions, and occasionally a completely unreasonable attachment to one particular side of the bed. They are not designed to match the glowing picture created during the first few dates, and suddenly the celebrity has started behaving like a person.

Maybe nothing dramatic happens. The early admiration may simply settle into something more realistic, and a genuine connection grows from there. Or perhaps some of the excitement fades because the real woman turns out to be different from the one imagined during those first sparkling weeks.

Either way, there is something very funny about being declared amazing before someone has had enough time to discover what kind of amazing you actually are.

Early attraction says, “I really like what I have seen so far.” Premature adoration says, “I have seen enough.” Those are not quite the same thing.

Being wanted is lovely. Being admired is lovely. Being looked at as though you are the best thing that happened to Thursday is especially lovely. But when someone seems to understand your entire character after two appetizers and a walk around the block, the fan club may be getting slightly ahead of the biography.

Five stars are wonderful. It is just nice when the reviewer has finished the book.