I want him to call me.

Or text me.

I'm sitting here waiting, kind of dying to hear from him. I would call or text him, but I don't want to seem too forward. I mean, we just met.

There are two other guys. Both want an answer and I keep putting them off. An excuse about a busy day here. A question or two there. Just trying to keep my options open, because I'm super interested in the first guy.

I've met a few others in person, but we didn't connect. One asked me about my grandchildren. Goodbye. Another didn't have some key features I'm looking for.

Oh, did you think this was me dating? Nope, just buying a new car after mine got totaled.

Thing is, I can't separate these feelings from the ones I have about online dating. It is the most unnatural way to meet people. I need a connection, an attraction. That something you don't get from awkward starter conversations in an app.

But how else do you meet people these days? I've made the profiles, sent the random hellos and been on several dates. It hasn't added up to much, really.

The same is true when car shopping. One dealer after another is trying to keep your attention, throwing out a deal, a pickup line.

I wonder if I'm wasting my time.

• • •

My marriage ended in divorce after 15 years and I got thrown into the dating pool shortly after turning 40.

Just the right timing, eh?

Truth is, I didn't jump in right away because of my two daughters. Whatever time I had beyond my demanding job was meant for them. Still is.

Once I was ready a few years back, I did not know what to do. I had dated in college. I'd met my husband a couple of years later at work. I never struggled to meet people in those days.

But now? Everyone is married. Everyone is connected. My close friends have their lives all sewn up.

I'm a heterosexual woman looking for a relationship with a man. I was dead-set against online dating, even though I know many people who have met their lifelong partners on an app. I long to run into someone and feel the connection. Someone at church? At the gym? At Fresh Market? A friend met his wife on the steps of a museum. That's a good story.

Once you scroll through the few available men in your life, though, dating apps are where it's at now.

• • •

My insurance company was offering to play matchmaker. With its car-buying service, you explain what kind of car you want and the system matches you up with three local dealers willing to honor a discount price.

Once I said, hey, I'm interested in a Subaru Forester, a Honda CR-V, a Volkswagen Tiguan and a Chevrolet Equinox, I had people calling, texting and emailing to try to get my business. Sort of like when you swipe right or like someone. Invitation open.

One woman had a nice voice so I called her back to see about the Tiguan. I had a Honda guy from my last car, so I dug up our text history and checked in with him.

I got tons of text messages I never answered.

Countless voicemails I didn't listen to.

Kind of like the random hellos I get on dating apps and ignore. Part of me feels guilty. Part of me doesn't care. Maybe it's fear.

• • •

I'm an adventurous person. I've traveled to four continents, often by myself. But I'm also an introvert. Super shy. That makes dating especially hard.

Reluctantly I joined eharmony. That got me nowhere. So I tried Tinder. It's a little more casual (okay, a lot), but I find it fun and easy to use. Soon enough I met a guy for a date and he promised he wasn't a serial killer. Good start?

Conversations on Tinder can get explicit pretty quick, I find. A guy will be like, "Can we text? I'm not on this app very often." I would give out my number and soon unwanted photos popped up. I had to shut that down pretty quickly.

As long as I was open to online dating, though, why not try CatholicMatch? My faith is important to me. But I barely even got into a conversation on this one. Not sure how big the pool is.

After that, it has been a cycle of try an app, go on a date or two or none, delete it, swear off online dating. Rinse and repeat.

I recently went back to Tinder and got to the point of making a date with a guy who seemed really interesting, but once our schedules didn't match, he ghosted me. That crushed my enthusiasm. And prompted a quick delete of the app.

Every time this happens, I start to think maybe there's no hope for me.

The idea that I'm going to make small talk online and then go from 0 to 60 in person is not just awkward, it's unfathomable. The odds are stacked against me.

Whatever. I don't want to get comfortable with digital intimacy. It's bogus. Utterly fake. And not the way I want to connect.

• • •

I'm looking for something real, something to hold onto.

My forever car.

I finally break down and call the guy I'm super interested in. I want that Subaru. He lets me down easy, saying he just can't cut the deal I want.

I'm stunned and hurt, but I quickly scramble back to the other two guys. Are they still interested?

The Honda guy has been super patient and understanding as I semi-blew him off all afternoon, exploring what seemed like a better option.

But he got the numbers I wanted. I knew this was the one.

So I texted him: "Let's make a deal!"

He responded: "Yayyyyy!!!" With confetti emojis.

• • •

If online matchmaking worked for me buying a car, isn't there hope for a forever partner?

I mean, the digital connection is just the start. You have to meet someone in person to really get anywhere.

My Honda CR-V is a sweet ride to anywhere with lush leather seats, blind spot monitoring and a power tailgate. I barely remember the challenge of shopping and negotiating.

That's the lesson in almost anything, I guess. Have faith, push through the awkward, succeed.

Maybe there's hope for my love life.

What should I try next?

Contact Amy Hollyfield at ahollyfield@tampabay.com.