Stories from the Tinderverse

I swear, I had sworn off the stuff. In fact, I was on a mission. A mission to numb my anger and pain over yet another failed attempt to be happy with someone. I don’t think it was too much to ask for a simple no strings one-time system cleaning situation. And yet life loves surprising you. The mere idea of a possible downward spiral is enough to push you toward something or someone that will be everything you want and, all the same, nothing that you need. My mental stamina was already wavering before all this went down, but apparently, I needed breaking. This breaking would be entirely necessary to finally give me the courage to leave and make real changes, changes that would last this time, even if they were born solely out of bitterness. I wasn’t ready, but then we rarely are.

I despise admitting that I’m on dating apps, as a part of me sees them as a last resort for those who have given up on meeting people organically. At the same time, these apps are almost addicting; their interface plays something like a game, so it’s understandable as to why people often leave the app feeling played. Still, the convenience makes these things undeniably attractive, as well as the ability to have something of a screening process for each potential candidate. “Would you look stunning waking up next to me after one too many mojitos?” Eh, okay, I don’t drink mojitos, but this is the general idea. I remember first seeing him, a profile consisting of one ridiculous dad joke and a pretty decent collection of photos. At the time, my mind wasn’t reading much into the assumed content of my potential match’s soul, but I remember speaking out loud to myself, “this one is gonna be trouble,” before ultimately swiping right. And matching. Was now the time to start panicking? Things had been rocky with my long-distance lover for, well, weeks. On our final night of conversation, I spent about 20 minutes wallowing before deciding I’d try my luck at a completely random hook-up; a use-once-then-toss human tissue, if you will. I don’t know why part of me was drawn to this guy, despite the internal red flags that were going off like security alarms, blaring angrily in the back of my head. I didn’t even need to spend that long engaging in witty banter before he asked if I wanted to meet somewhere for a drink. From here, we enter the phase that every single girl snaps to when she’s anticipating an all-but-confirmed hook-up. The first step is to shower and shave, all while telling yourself that this doesn’t really mean anyone is going to see the goods later; it's simply all part of the look. Then the face; a soft glowing beat that shows effort but not too much, as not to give off the impression that this interaction is going to mean anything unless it's stellar. The outfit should be sultry and well-fitting, with a matching sexy lingerie set and a plan in place to insist that “I wear underwear like this every day, what do you mean?”. Last but not least, the perfume and a subsequent text that you’re “really sorry, but I’m gonna be a little late”. After I was ready for this meetup, my palms started to sweat a little. We were meeting up at around 1030pm at a bar. Was I really prepared for all this? But I got in my car and drove to meet him anyway, never anticipating what this fatal introduction would do to me down the line.

I arrived and approached the bar where we had agreed to meet. I’ve never been one to believe in the magic of first sight or “ya know when you know” because I am way too cynical for all that. So when I walked into this bar and looked at him I—

Ladies and gentlemen, I stopped writing because that’s just the thing. I don’t remember how I first felt about him. For all of the seemingly important men in my life thus far, I remember our first interaction and the feelings that I had surrounding them. I remember how they looked and what they were wearing. I can remember the tone of our first conversations and what I felt about them. I can remember the details of the first time that I kissed them and all the feelings that flooded through me afterward. My longest relationship started back in 2015, whereas this guy that I was about to write a weird, sappy, and disdain-filled story about only came into my life last year, and I can’t remember these details about him. Which is why I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that he wasn’t someone I truly loved or was invested in. All this time knowing him, valuing our connection to be something greater than it really was, when the truth was that our connection was superficial at best, fueled by my insatiable need to have it all mean something. I figured that our interactions would teach me about myself in ways I had never comprehended before, but the reality was thus; it was never that deep. I figured that I wanted to go on this diatribe, “tell our story,” and release some cathartic anger because I was sad and still mourning the loss of our relationship for the second time around. I don’t think you can comprehend how shocked I am to make this revelation of self-discovery; after all this time, I was just trying to see what the meaning of it all was. And now I feel only slight disappointment. I spent time crafting most of our interactions to be something more beautiful and impactful than they ever were. Now looking in a mirror at what I have left, I realize that it is entirely possible to completely drown in a relationship with absolutely no meaning, simply as a filler in your life. A teaching mechanism to prove some dalliances are worth less than a grain of sand in the ultimate hourglass that is your life. How much energy you put into these grains of sand is inevitably up to you. I know this was the lesson because I have felt a shift in my view of my time and how I spend it. I’ve started avoiding situations that I know will simply drag on me, burning through precious time that I only have so much of. Some individuals are simply here to mean nothing at all, to be a background character propelling you to a greater discovery on a different level.

I tell ya what, give me an app that weeds out these individuals from the meaningful ones; that’s something I’d buy stock in. And yet, without them, some of our greatest lessons wouldn’t achieve the clarity needed to be impactful. So, thank those that entered and exited your life, leaving no trace of existence regardless of how much time was invested. Rest assured that these are just small guides to the better things you’re meant to experience.