You’re swiping. Left, left, left, LEFT!
And then you see him.
His face radiant like the sun, flaxen hair, along with the most gorgeous beard you’ve ever laid eyes on to match. His bio has to suck, right? Nope. It’s awesome. Witty and honest, confessing that he lives far away. That’s the shitty part about living in New York. It seems like everyone’s a tourist.
You ponder if you really want to even try to match with this guy (you secretly think he won’t match with you), but you swipe right anyway and MATCH! OMG. You normally don’t message first, but you can’t help it. He has the same Myers Briggs personality as you. Holy crap! So much to talk about. You go back and forth for a while asking questions and figuratively dissecting each other’s brains and then you offer him your number. He takes it, you save his, and you continue to pick each other apart.
A couple of days texting until finally he asks you to meet up with him. You’re freaking out because without having met him, you know he’s special. You give him a rotund yes and you meet up for a chill dinner. You end up having a six hour date. Time passes by quickly and you don’t run out of things to talk about. Your conversation is serious and then funny, and then serious, and then random, and then philosophical. He’s the most perfect weirdo you’ve ever met, oh and did I mention that beard? Jesus, that beard! You basically want to marry his beard.
You’re having such a great time, but in the back of your mind you tell yourself to not like him too much because he has to go away in a few days and you don’t if you’ll ever see him again. The night is shadowed by this notion, for you at least, but you continue to converse and laugh like a pair of drunken idiots that have been sipping on nothing but ginger ale and bitters.
The night is almost over and you’re both waiting for your vehicles to arrive. You playfully get into each other’s personal bubbles and he gently holds you in his arms. His arms around you feel nice, a type nice you haven’t felt in a while. His arms make you feel safe, like he could never hurt you.
You part and the whole way home you think about how amazing this date was, cause let’s face it, first dates normally suck. You’re on a crazy high, but then a couple of days after it sinks in that he’s leaving.
What to do?
There’s two things you can do:
1. Mope and replay the entire evening in your mind a thousand times. Slowly let each other fade, but silently hope life will allow you to run into him again someday.
2. Adult-ly accept that timing is, in fact, a spiteful bitch that should be killed for ruining everything good.
Either way it will be hard and you’ll always wonder what could’ve happened if America was smaller and all that land in between didn’t matter.
He’s 2,913.9 miles away from you, but his laugh, his voice and the way he kept looking at you will remain with you for a while.