Carrie – So after three months off of the dating app game, I found that my dating game had gone seriously downhill as well. There were a couple of guys here and there, but nothing that panned out and nothing I was excited about. I downloaded Happn because I thought it was the closest dating app that paralleled meeting someone in real life and in fact, I’ve had many an awkward run in with people on the app that I subway home with on the daily. Added bonus: I knew that Mr. Namaste was on it and things were either gonna “Happn” between us or not but I really needed to get over my little yoga crush. We matched. I messaged him “hey stranger, see you in class” (He didn’t respond. I haven’t seen him in class. I’m sure it’ll be awkward when we do. Nothing happened. I’m over it.)
It’s also the most overwhelming dating app for someone who is just getting back in the game. Your options are presented to you all at once, it tells you how many times you two have “crossed paths” and even narrows it down to the exact location. It’s tough to make a splash because unlike Tinder or Bumble or other swiping apps, the spotlight isn’t on your profile and guys don’t need to decide via swipe one way or another. Instead, your profile (aka your main picture) has to be attracting enough for someone to notice you out of the four options available on the screen. As a chick who is often picked somewhere in the middle of the pack when captains are choosing their sports teams, it seemed daunting to get anyone to match me.
It’s been a strange experience this time around. I ‘charmed’ aka sent a notification to a friend on my intramural sports league team and I think he thought I was legitimately into them (#awkwardWednesdayseversince). I also got a Facebook add from a random who screenshotted my profile and sent it back to me with a convoluted message about crossing paths with me seven times and wanting to get my attention… well yeah, you did, and you creeped me out so much that I blocked you, changed my facebook name and deleted the app all together.
Before this fateful delete, I had matched with some guy from Brazil. His name was heinous but he was super cute. While I am usually into – I’ll just say it – white Canadian dudes with the motto “the preppier the better,” I was attracted to his intense green eyes when they weren’t shrouded behind his nerdy glasses. He messaged me at 8 a.m. on a Saturday so I asked him what he was doing up so early. When he replied with a totally garbled text of “anything can happen, including see U,” I showed all my co-workers, we laughed at him and I put my phone away. Just like my writer namesake, Carrie, I don’t tolerate grammatical errors.
Three weeks later, he sends me a sad face. And a couple days later, bored out of my mind on a sick day from the office, I responded. It happened to be his birthday so I felt bad ghosting and we talked for the rest of the day. He was entertaining enough but I cringed every time he typed “U” instead of “you” and messed up simple English phrases. I empathized with him because it is tough to learn a new language. Perhaps this fact clouded my judgment because I said yes when he asked me out. (Did I mention he was really hot?) We set a date for the following week and texted pretty consistently until the big day. No conversation was remarkable nor did it give me butterflies but it was interesting enough. The only time I thought we ever really connected was when we talked about sex. He said he’s fucked people just for the sake of it and wasn’t interested in that life anymore. Maybe it was stupid to believe him – guys will say whatever to get into your pants – but it spoke to the way I’ve been feeling the past couple of months so I decided to accept what he was saying at face value. I knew all along he wasn’t going to be my forever, but he could be my fun for right now (and somewhat into the immediate future).
We meet up at a pub and he was a half an hour late. He spoke English much better in real life but before we had even ordered, he told me about his ex-fiancee. It definitely peaked a red flag but I joked about leaving or needing a drink if I stayed after that and the rest of the date went off without a hitch. I think above all else I valued his honesty right from the get-go.
One date turned into another and next thing I know, the majority of April was spent turning sleepovers into brunches and stripping off our clothing as warm spring weather began to emerge in the 6ix. He taught me some Portuguese and I told him how to pronounce certain words. We would often joke about the apparent cultural differences, like him sending voice clips to his friends on WhatsApp instead of texting which is kind of embarrassing at a sports pub while we’re watching the Raptors in the playoffs. I often made fun of him with my friends, laughing when he sent me a text saying “Carrie, I don’t know if you want to hang out anymore, but I shaved my head.” We collectively decided it was too shallow if I stopped seeing him because he got a buzzcut. (Anyhow, he looked like Jonas Valanciunus now and I love them Raps.) And for the first time since my ex, Mr. Puppy Love, I got used to the little quirks of sleeping with someone. He had to cuddle a pillow to get to sleep just like I needed to sleep on my right side in fetal position; I was always super energetic in the morning and he was not as much; we would play peek-a-boo through the smiley faces we drew in the fog of the shower glass. We had a lot of fun when I didn’t read too much into it.
Our blossoming relationship was still a little fickle: one time, he forgot we made plans to hang out but was texting me throughout the evening and I didn’t care enough to remind him; other times, he wouldn’t understand something I texted and it often led to miscommunications. I kept bracing myself with the knowledge that he was leaving to London (Ontario) come May 1st so we kept it light and fun. However, I was confused that he kept hinting at a future us. I didn’t think I was reading too much into it.
Day 4 of texting before we met up:
Me: “I don’t see the point in continuing talking if you’re going to be leaving in May. I don’t like expiration dates.”
Him : “Well London isn’t that far U know? maybe 2h”
Or in an Uber one night after the bar:
“I’m going to miss this city so much. London is so boring and everything is far apart! But *grabs my hand* I’m gonna try to come back every two weekends.”
“You know you live really close to the bus station?”
Trailer of Captain America: Civil War comes on TV
“We should watch this movie!”
*Trailer says May 6*
Oh no, I will be in London by then. *We both pout at each other*
So date number five or so, we have a chat about sexual partners and he jokes that he’s slept with two girls after me. Alarmed, I ask him if he’s being serious because we (v v v v stupidly) have not been using condoms. Then we have the starting-to-get-serious chat where I say, word-for-word:
Me: “Listen, I’m probably not going to sleep with anyone because that’s just me.”
Him: “Yeah, me, probably the same.”
Me: “Okay. But if you do, it’s okay. I mean, it’s obviously not ideal because I like you, but if you do, just let me know so that we can be a little safer with that type of stuff.”
Him: “Yes of course.”
Him: “Okay, glad we’re on the same page”
*we fist bump and he sleeps over*
So imagine my surprise when after this hangout, he doesn’t initiate conversations between us and starts to r-bomb me. I don’t need to be a rocket scientist to figure out he’s blowing me off but it’s just so startling because we JUST HAD this conversation. Even the first time we slept together, I expressed my hesitation taking that next step and he said “Why because you’re afraid I’m leaving in May?”
Maybe he panicked, maybe I read too much into what he was saying, but the second he started showing signs of fleeing, I figured I’ve matured enough this year with these no-integrity and dishonest city boys to not spend my life pining over someone that – when I’m being honest with myself – I didn’t even really like that much in the first place. I have no chill and deleted his number and blocked him.
I think why I really wanted to write about this yet-another busted month-long relationship is the fact that it illuminates that we, as a society, have lost our ability to be completely honest with one another. Instead, we say what we think will appease the other person in order to further our own interests. Perhaps I’m not being fair and his side of the story is much more justified (ie. he just didn’t like me anymore). But I am just getting more and more unphased by disappointments with dating. It seems that everyone wants casual and its hard not to get jaded. However, armed with the knowledge that I want the real deal, the big love, I’m more determined now than ever to keep tossing myself in that tornado that is the dating world to get knocked around… so long as it’ll lead me to a worthwhile relationship that will lead me the way out of this shitstorm.