Dating

Despite being socially withdrawn, I was lonely enough to register on a few dating sites. I went on what felt to me like a lot of dates. Mostly, if not solely, bad ones. Maybe I could take good pictures and write an interesting profile, but I obviously didn't have it in me to make a conversation interesting, or to create chemistry. I wasn't enjoying them either. They felt like a complete waste of time, and I was always anxious, wanting to impress people even if I didn't really like them myself. I found myself able to schedule even 3 a week, but they would all be just dry conversation somewhere - a pub, a park, a beach, one of our houses - and in the end we pay for our drinks or food, say goodbye with a smile, and thankfully never contact each other again. I stopped doing that after I realized they're entirely pointless. I went from one a week, to one every two weeks, to just not even logging in anymore. It's been a few months since the last one.

However, that tiny bit of conversation - despite how I felt anxious all throughout and fled as quickly as I could - was enough to open that old wound of loneliness. I began wondering whether Linn had someone. Nah, I thought. I would never be able to date someone like Linn. She was way more beautiful than anyone I ever managed to date. And she seemed very social, and friendly. She definitely has a boyfriend, perhaps even a husband.

I logged on to one of the apps. So this is what I'm doing instead of working, huh? How pathetic. I swiped left and right, through good and bad pictures, through short and long introductions, through a sea of meaningless details that could never even hint whether I will actually like being around someone or not.

I stopped at a profile of a young guy, who looked quite cute. His hair reminded me of Linn's, just shorter, sliding down to his shoulders. He had piercing blue eyes, and a sweet smile. He wrote a bunch of things, seemingly trying to appear funny rather than actually writing about himself. He didn't write what he wanted or what he looked for. I swiped him right, and it was a match.

He opened the conversation by letting me know he only wanted to share a few magical moments with me. Nice, I thought, he was throwing some of my words back at me, and that means he actually read my profile. And it also meant that he was looking for someone for the night. It wasn't really a primary goal for me, but I did take such offers occasionally.

We met at a local pub. In reality, he looked younger than his pictures; I thought he was just clean shaven, but from up close, the light and gentle stubble on his face seemed like he wasn't able to grow a beard... Yet? I was a few years older, and now I wondered if he indeed thought of me as old. The waitress didn't ask for his ID when we ordered our drinks, so I asked him to show me. I didn't want to drag kids to pubs, and wondered if that made me considerate or rude. He seemed confused, but he slipped it out of his wallet. Great, he's an adult. And probably offended.

The drinks arrived, we talked about random things. Music, cars, games. I hoped he felt comfortable in this conversation. I was getting a little light headed. Drinking was a rather stupid hobby; I stopped drinking entirely, other than during dates. At those times, it was the only way for me to have a flowing conversation, and to lose the anxious feeling that I'm being examined. I still knew my date probably examined me, but I didn't feel so sick to my stomach. I invited him over to my place.