I had almost resigned myself to the prospect of being stuck in proud loneliness forever. I had met guys in real life in different places and situations, and (in vain, very vain) I had given a chance to my best friend, who I thought had been secretly in love with me for 10 years. All I did was avoid dating apps and not go out with a “looking for a boyfriend” sign.
I finally gave up and downloaded the app. And now I'll talk about pointless dating and desperate searches for love.
So. I've never sat on dating apps and treated them with either skepticism or fear — perhaps these two feelings mixed in me and took root so deeply that I wouldn't download these apps even when I was drunk/on a date/at the urging of my friends.
I studied them: I read books about love algorithms and the mechanisms of such applications (my skepticism grew stronger), I looked for articles about them, where mostly girls shared their experiences (most often negative, now my fear grew stronger), I watched documentaries (nothing encouraging) and listened to the stories of acquaintances (here everything was divided 50/50). In general, I observed and went in circles, not wanting to enter this circle.
This is not a scientific, but a life-theoretical interest – like my friend, who has never been in a relationship, but knows everything about them, because she has collected a library of science fiction on this topic. By the way, she has been on dating apps for several years. But she has never found anyone. Everyone is different, and everything is not the same.
And I'm afraid that the wrong things will happen to me. Why injure yourself once again and lose faith in men with cosmic speed? Or even supercosmic.
And I'm also afraid of seeing familiar faces among the profiles. And that these faces will see me. I can't even explain this fear. I'm not afraid that someone will think: “Wow, she's so desperate.” I'm not afraid of talking to people from the past.
I'm scared simply because it's incomprehensible and unknown — meeting people now, when we're supposedly adults, but we seem to miss the period when you could go up to a cute boy on the playground and say: “Hi, I'm 7, let's be friends?” And the boy won't be able to refuse.
And in apps it's scary. We never know who's hiding on the other side of the screen. We don't know why they want to communicate with us. We're not sure if the profile has real photos. We don't understand what a person is really thinking. It's not that I often get to know someone offline, but in this case you can at least look a person in the eye and after a short conversation understand whether they are choosing specially convenient and attractive phrases, or whether they are sincere and really good with them.
In general, my anxiety about this has many ramifications, and for me, going into the app can be compared to a second flight in open space without a spacesuit. Or the risk of ending up in a black hole and not being able to get out of it, because there could be too many unpleasant troubles waiting for me there.
I always believed that I would find “the one” by chance. Maybe I would meet someone at a friends’ party. Maybe I would meet a cool guy at a bar where I went with friends — to feel safer. And all of that happened. But it ended:
Dates in the car in the parking lot in my neighborhood
No vulgarity — I just sat for four or five hours in a smoky (I don't like the smell of cigarettes, especially if it's “cold outside, I won't open the windows”) car with a person I didn't particularly like, and listened to her retellings of horror movies or video games. Yes, I was really in despair then. It all ended quickly, and after the finale of this incredibly romantic story, I found out that the person had — hmm… Girls with whom he also sat in the car in the parking lot or came to their homes… I became interested in learning about it, and I simply asked what kind of relationship philosophy he had.
So, I quote this philosophy: “I don’t know if you understand, but let’s take pizza (???) as an example. You have a favorite — “Margarita”. You go crazy over it, you adore it, you love it and you think you’ll order it for the rest of your life. But suddenly you see a promotion for pineapple pizza in the app. Yes, you love “Margarita”, but here there’s a promotion (!), and you want to try something else. You order a pineapple pizza. Then you go back to “Margarita” and don’t even hint that one evening you did without it. The next time you see a promotion for barbecue chicken. And so on. Do you understand?” To my “no” and round eyes, he replied: “Well, I’m an animal, I can’t be corrected.” When asked if he would order a pizza on a promotion while officially married to “Margarita”, he answered in the affirmative without hesitation. Men, don't tell anyone else about these tactics.
Disadvantages of a year
I met him at my best friend's birthday party, believed in love at first sight, and somehow immediately became attached to him. But there's a nuance – six months after that party, he was supposed to go to another city on assignment. And he didn't want a relationship, he didn't want to fall in love with someone, he didn't want pain and for someone else to feel pain after he left, because he was sure that after moving, any love story would end. We had a conversation almost like in “Twilight” – “Bella, we can't communicate with you.” They told me that I couldn't fall in love, because it would end badly. But with rose-colored glasses, I ignored everything and fought for my feelings. However, the guy already wanted to change his assignment to a closer one, but it turned out to be too late.
Okay, I couldn't go to another city with him, but at least I could keep in touch and hope for the best. I'll complain and make it short: the sweet story ended with him writing for a month about how hard it was for him and how hard it was to let me go, and one fine evening he sent (!) 50 circles with stories about why he hadn't been online for a week. I was immediately stressed that this story was intended for someone else. “I'm just really tired, so I'm sending it to you.” The second and final alarm bell was interrupted in another video when he took a hair off his bathrobe and said to the camera: “Oh, your hair is on me.” The next video was: “No, you didn't understand, it's… my sister's hair. We have the same bathrobes, they mixed it up at home when they sent the package…” However, everything was clear, I was already howling and choking on tears, because it was so-so.
Meeting a man at a bar who dances amazingly
He and I somehow caught each other's eye on the drunken dance floor and didn't look away from each other until the morning. The bar's facers kept asking us not to circle around, because there was not enough space and we might run into someone for something. We chatted, exchanged nicknames on Telegram, and I was delighted. Because: he dances, he dances beautifully, he's tall, he's stylish, he's interesting. And he wrote to me the next morning after we met and suggested we go for a walk. But I was in a state of unprecedented hangover and asked to postpone the meeting, after which – who knows – I could say that I have a boyfriend and I'm happy.
A week, two, a month passed — he didn’t return to the dialogue, but he watched my Instagram stories. I wanted to suggest a walk myself, but at first it was too cold, then too wet, then my mood dropped, then serious problems started, and after three months I deleted the “Write…” reminder that popped up on the screen every week. He still watches my stories. People, be braver, no matter what.
No happy endings or even happy plots
And recently, a friend of mine told me that she met a guy on an app, now they're getting to know each other's parents and thinking about going on a trip together. Then I realized that all these apps are like some kind of game where you can either find a treasure, or come across unpleasant surprises, or just get disappointed and delete it from your phone. And it started to look like a joke: you'll sit around for a while, look at other people's profiles, laugh or be horrified, maybe you'll talk to someone, but why not try it?
The evening came, when I surrounded myself with friends for support and, at their urging, “it won’t get any worse,” I also installed the app. I spent half an hour poring over the questionnaire to write something funny. I put all the shots of me with my eyes closed in my photo feed. I went out into this open space and got lost.
Who should I like? And which candidate should I reject? But this guy seems to be okay? No, he's too handsome. There's something to this, but it's like something's bothering me.
“Well, finally like it. You're not selling a cow,” my friend hissed.
Okay. A few likes were given, a couple of conversations happened. But my friends and I, after re-viewing the profiles of my mutual sympathies, decided that it would be better to go on a quick date, so at least we wouldn't be left alone with our despair.
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