Single in the 6ix: Ebbing > flowing = crickets

SunriseThe witty repartee has ceased. And instead, I am left with crickets. To be fair the cricket-y silence is on both ends: I have lost interest and no longer have anything to say or contribute to my latest matches, and similarly it would seem, neither has the last two week’s major prospect have more to say to me. My patience wanes thin and after letting that particular match sit there in silence for the last week, I unmatched us. 

Hello? Was it me you’re looking for? (I may have recently seen Trolls).

No longer applies. I swipe and swipe and swipe some more, I feel like I’m at the bottom of the barrel (of monkeys).

This in between feeling of caring and not caring I think is damaging as much as it is a byproduct of the dating app. You want to be hopeful, but not too hopeful because then Tinder may just perpetually disappoint.

You care: you’re on the app in the first place. You put in your (swiping) time, you may even be the one that starts the conversation. Dates are set up, times and places arranged, you put in that little bit of extra effort (want to make a good impression) and anticipate that this time, this time will be fun, the conversation will flow, and by God, there will be chemistry!

You don’t care: you don’t want to get your hopes up. You may be less than enthusiastic about who you matched with because you have that impending sense of (doom) feeling: the odds, from past experience, are not in your favour, so really, what’s the point? You feign interest for the sake of continuing a conversation in the hopes that common interests are discovered, or at least a modicum of chemistry developed, because that can happen right?

Aziz Ansari Modern Romance

Courtesy of CBC (Penguin Press/CBC)

This slightly more apathetic attitude towards dating may be problematic, but so might continuously putting all your chicks in one basket.

Ah the highs and lows. Riding that Tinder roller coaster.

With no prospects at the mo’ I feel less than optimistic about my romantic future. At least I’m enjoying my life—and watching so much Gilmore Girls in anticipation of A Year in the Life—and not (entirely) pining my idle time away for a man. Though as the weather cools, and the days become ever the shorter, it would be nice to have a snuggle buddy.

I choose snuggle buddy over crickets any day of the week. Well, except Mondays.


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