Tonight I decided that it was time for me to get myself back on the horse and to reactivate my Match account. For those of you unfamiliar with the singular humiliations of online dating, one of the “services” that this particular company provides is it identifies people as your “matches of the day” – and, to top it off, it highlights one particular profile as one person they think will be Just Perfect for You!
Guess who my Extra Special Match of the Day was?
No, really, guess. I’ll give you a second.
The Motherfucking Dude. I shit you not. Let me give you a moment to process that, because it certainly took me a moment to process that.
Apparently, we are a Match Made in Heaven, according to whatever algorithms predict such things, except for the tiny problem that he isn’t interested in dating anybody in the whole wide world, let alone me.
Given the current state of things with him, what with us pleasantly texting on a daily basis, I told him that the universe mocked me with his profile, and I asked him directly whether he is, in fact, looking to date people-who-are-not-me, and he said he isn’t looking to date anyone, and I do believe him. The Dude is many fucked up things, but I don’t think he’s a liar. Also, he doesn’t appear to have logged in to his account any time recently, so that corroborates his story.
Now, obviously because of the circumstances, this means I did make him aware that I am putting myself back out there, in however limited a way. And I made it clear that my doing so doesn’t mean my feelings for him have changed at this point, but it does mean that I accept that he is in whatever paralysis state he is in, and I need to get on with my dumb life in the meantime. Because he might be permanently paralyzed. And I’m not paralyzed. So.
At any rate, I am happy that all my cards are on the table, even if the universe is mocking my attempts to get on with it.