Anguish of Online Dating

The inner dialogue of this single gal’s head around how sucky online dating is:

Is it the act and feeling of loss of time of putting myself out there, over and over again?

Is it constant pouring of energy of prying myself wide open and being vulnerable to connect with a stranger, over and over again?

Is it the feeling of the many times my unspoken imagination of some future budding romance results in I always have to put to death these unspoken imagination?

Questioning, is it me? Questioning, is the whole dam* male species being dumb?

I was chatting with someone recently about how crushing online dating is. Her and I commiserated for a solid 15 minutes on this topic. I knew there wasn’t any platitude to help her feelings of anguish, despair, and or the loneliness that comes with dating/online dating. All I could offer to her in that moment was what I generally need and want. Providing space to vent, listening ears, validate dating f***ing sucks, and a pat on the back that I did good for putting myself out there.

I would be lying if I don’t admit feelings of being utterly crushed at a recent online prospect, and it happens more often than I would like to admit. Texting chemistry, chatting chemistry weighs heavily into if I want to meet them in person from the dating apps. When we would text, he was really witty and funny. I gush at prospects and profiles who can make me laugh via the apps. Enough laughter can start making me do things, like watch his favorite Korean dramas. One of them being Run On on Netflix, in which in my eyes was painfully slow but cute never-the-less. Just because he loved it, it made me curious why he loved it so much. Who am I?

On our date, as soon as I sat down at our table I immediately knew this wasn’t going to be more than a one-date-wonder. The conversation in person, I could sense his nervousness but also some extreme insecurities that would come through harsh criticism and commentaries of others. We chatted so much leading up to meeting up, that I felt emotionally invested. Right after the disappointing first date, I reached for and polished a full bottle of wine by myself at home. I am trying to practice not reaching for booze when I’m sad, but I oddly drank my unspoken and unrealized sad feelings. By the time I got to the bottom of the bottle, I unexpectedly started tearing up.

I was so sad and drunk, I drunk dialed my last romantic connection and we talked on the phone for two hours into the middle of the late night. I have no idea what we talked about and do not recall my drunken sad self blubbering. I also speculated he would pick up. In my drunken anguish, I think I needed affirmation that this was all worthwhile, that when I put myself out there, it really is worthwhile finding a gem of a human being and short-lived romantic prospects just like him, even if they don’t result in a relationship. I haven’t talked to him since my drunk dial. Why would I?

Both romance and anguish make me do silly things, outside of who I know and recognize myself to be.