“If you could put into a word, our relationship, what would it be? Been thinking about you all morning and cannot escape it, no matter what or how hard I try…No word I can think of holds that meaning.”
He texts me after another long night of talking on the phone. My heart drops. It’s that roller coaster feeling: being excited and scared shitless all at the same time all while desperately searching to discern which one is the prevailing emotion; being both open and vulnerable. We’ll call this guy Texas, with whom I engaged in a digital relationship after a lonely Christmas Eve, a bottle of wine, and a rare right swipe on Tinder. The same man who was on my doorstep two weeks later after driving 536 miles to meet me. Ironically, our fire burned out on February 14th. Still, those words haunt me, much like the feelings that accompanied them.
Who am I? I’m just a thirty-something professional therapist and single mother who apparently has made ‘being single’ a lifestyle. To clarify, not in the fun way you’re picturing in your head right now. Then again I’m also not in the business of collecting cats. I’d say I’m somewhere in the middle. Where I frequently engage in long cuddle sessions with my couch as I binge watch Netflix on the weekends. I’m fresh on the market, after a long hiatus from dating while I dedicated my life to my career and raising my child. Somewhere along the way, I decided it’d be a good idea to get back out there and an even better idea to do so on Tinder, and eventually Match. Side Note: Should I be overly concerned that both are analogous with fire?
Indulge me in my crash and burn adventures in digital dating and as I counsel myself through this process. What’s the goal? What are my long term objectives as I explore this new chapter in my life? At this point, success will be measured by the frequency in which I buy batteries in bulk and the arthritis flare-ups that inevitably come with swiping left until Tinder forces me to call it a night.
What happens next? Let’s find out.