If I Could be Brutally Honest on Tinder

I would say...

I'm 35 going on 36. I can feel my body aging in ways that my parents warned me about but I didn't believe. If I drink more than 2 alcoholic beverages in one night I need to go to sleep immediately for fear of being hungover for more days than drinks I consumed.

I've lived in NYC for 12 years, which means several things, but mostly that I've had a lot of casual sex. Enough to know that I don't want it anymore. I don't want anything casual. I want something serious.

The kind of serious where we laugh together about dumb shit and annoy everyone around us. The kind of serious where I know exactly how you take your coffee, you know that I'm not a morning person, and we both know that the right kind of candy to smuggle into a movie includes Sour Patch Kids and Reese's Pieces.

The kind of serious where within 6 months of dating we move in together and adopt a small-to-medium sized dog that we name something seemingly mundane like Max or Bill, but really he's named after that crazy guy we met that time in Costa Rica whose truck we rode around in all night getting high and eating tacos and well...anyway, you remember.

The kind of serious we where support each other's successes and failures. The kind of serious that isn't so serious at all. It's love.

...But Tinder has a character limit so I guess I'll say:

"I don't have cats. Let's do this."

 

Posted on April 15, 2014 .

98. January 2014: Robert, I Fell in Text

Blanket.jpg

How did you meet? Tinder

Name: Robert

Height: 6'0

Age: 31

Occupation: photographer

Good quotes from date(s): Every text we wrote to each other was kind of amazing. My favorites included "Back to the Future" references

Why is he still single? Don't know

Did he pay for the date? Yes

Did he contact you after the date? Yes

How many dates did you go on? 1

Would you recommend to a friend? nah...

Comments:

It was one of those blisteringly cold basically unlivable weekends in January where going outside was out of the question. Instead, Robert and I texted non-stop making each other crack up in our own safe but separate cocoons in our respective apartments. We shared pics of ourselves in our cozy pjs (his had Bart Simpson on them). We also shared the same sense of humor and I wondered if he was maybe the boy version of me.

Would that be super cool or super annoying? All of my (three) ex-boyfriends were quieter, more reflective, and more introverted than me. I've often thought that the reason these relationships didn't work was because I needed to date someone more like me. Wouldn't we laugh all the time?

A week later Robert and I met for an impromtu Sunday brunch. I took the bus to his neighborhood and I felt nervous. What if neither of us lived up to our funny, quirky, texting personas? What if he didn't like me, because I've already developed a crush on him. A sense of humor (live or digital) makes me weak in the knees.

Our Sunday brunch was the right amount of fun and awkward assuaged by a couple of mimosas. He was smart and cute and tall and equally funny in person.

After that I don't really know what happened.

There was more texting, same amount of funny but less frequent. We made a second date but he cancelled (the theme for 2014). The texting continued but became less funny, then non-existent.

Now he's one of my 362 Facebook friends, which in my world is where crushes and potential loves go to die. In a few months I'll do my biannual Facebook audit and he won't make the cut.

I know the drill. I get it. I don't take it personally anymore. I just feel so so tired. He was not that into me for whatever reason that I don't care to know. But the e-maintaining, and keeping me on the back burner with the texts for more than a month is something I cannot live with. You see, I'm a front burner gal - hell, I'm the whole goddamn stove-top. It's all or nothing for me. 

 

Posted on March 29, 2014 .