Online Dating Made Me Cry

Rachel Baran
Rachel Baran

After my four year relationship, ended I decided to try online dating. It wasn’t something I was particularly excited about, but I wasn’t entirely sure how to meet someone new. Not to mention, my shift pattern at work doesn’t allow for much of a social life. And I refuse to meet a man in a bar.

I’ve never liked the idea of meeting someone through a screen. It’s false, forced and far from romantic. I hate the fact that everyone is trying to be someone they’re not.

Texts are crafted to make you sound hilarious but not over-bearing, flirtatious but not slutty, smart but not pretentious.

The whole thing is an act.

But I was lonely and to be honest, craving male attention, even if it was from some weirdo with a pet tarantula and a need to send 27 back-to-back texts in one sitting.

So I signed up to match.com, and after a lot of convincing from a single friend, Tinder. I deleted Tinder twice, after one guy decided to inform me very bluntly that he’d love to taste my asshole. (Yes, he actually said that.) And another time because a man became aggressive after I didn’t reply to an earlier, offensive comment.

It actually made me cry.

I sat there staring at this stream of horny men’s crude messages and I ached for my ex, who even in his dirtiest of texts would have never, ever disrespect me.

Match was a little better. Men actually wanted to get to know me, but after a week I deleted that too. It felt…unnatural. And no matter how charming or seemingly good-looking these dudes were, I couldn’t feel a connection. I didn’t sense chemistry.

I couldn’t know that look in their eye when we smiled at each other.

And I was afraid that after a few messages they’d want to meet face-to-face, and then what? A slightly awkward conversation over a bottle of wine and maybe, just maybe there’s something there? I couldn’t face it.

As much as I respect the people who go through this miserable process, who happily tell friends and family they met their significant other online, I do not want that for myself.

I want to tell you how he saw me reading his favorite novel in a coffee shop and he just had to ask me what I thought of it. I want an instant spark, a friendship which forms over months, both of us knowing there’s something more there.

I want something raw. I want the kind of stories my grandparents tell me on their wedding anniversary. I want chance meetings and fate.

I want the kind of ‘romantic crap’ you see scrawled over pages in Nicholas Sparks novels. I want a love so epic that there will never be enough time for me to write about all of our adventures.

I do not want modern dating; I want an old fashioned kind of love.

I want a slow-burn. A stubborn flame. I want a Noah and Allie or Meredith and Derek kind of love. I want natural, unforced, serendipitous love. And I sure as hell won’t find that through a screen. TC mark

Rose Goodman

writer, daydreamer & coffee addict.

A Complete Guided Journal For Healing Your Own Life

This is your life.

You are the only one who decides how it goes.

Click Here

More From Thought Catalog

blog comments powered by Disqus