Does anyone remember that show on MTV called “Room Raiders”? “Room Raiders” was a dating reality show where viewers would spend 30 minutes watching a contestant snoop through the rooms…
However, as a day or two passes, your high starts to fade. Perhaps you begin to miss your lover, even though you didn’t leave each others side for 72 hours. Perhaps the few hours he took to call you back feels like three days. Perhaps you’re a bit on edge or snappy. Perhaps you start to re-evaluate whether you should be spending so much time thinking about him. Either way, the high starts to wear off and your obsession of that happy place begins to take new form.
Sound familiar? You see, ladies and gentlemen, this is what I like to call a Love Hangover.
Ladies, ask any single guy friend who will let you, to go through his address book. If your single guy friends are as painfully machismo and immature as mine, then you will be highly entertained by the names some men have women saved under.
I tossed his phone into his lap and let out “Damn. Nicole, the one from NY, is really looking for you” while the phone was in midair. I fired off 1 or 2 more passive aggressive comments before I left the room. The idea that another woman could be looking for him, during our time was almost repulsive.
How do you write a book? Where do you start? How do I get published? Is my writing even good enough to get published? What are successful authors writing about? What category do I want to write in? Do I need a ghost writer? A co-author?
This year I’m celebrating another Valentine’s Day without you, but I cannot wait to spend a lifetime of them with you in our future. I imagine waking up next to you on this special day and thanking God. I will thank him for every year I woke up alone because it was that time that he was preparing us both. I will look over at you while you are still sleeping but I say a quick prayer over you.
I usually meet that comment with my normal eye roll and a fake chuckle. I’m so used to hearing it now that I’ve actually thrown out my entire defense. I’m sad to admit that as much as I hate that “picky” label, I just quietly accept it. I’m told my tastes will mature as I get older. I won’t care about things as frivolous as clean sneakers or how he says goodbye when he hangs up the phone.
Anyhow, Tinder, Bumble, Raya, The League.... I’ve heard all these names thrown around but I’ve never taken any time of my own to investigate them. I hear Bumble is all the rage if you’re looking for a guy who’s husband material. The League is like the happy hour crowd of dating apps. Raya is the elite members only club where you can find a celebrity, creative or the next Elon Musk. and Tinder? Tinder has the reputation for local hook ups and the one or two random miracle love stories that end up as advertisements for the app.
In a world where my best friends are getting married and/or having babies, I’m stuck in the dating game. This new aged dating game is nothing like Clue or LIFE. It’s a combination game of Dare, Risk, and Limbo.
I wonder sometimes, maybe my Debater personality type only stands up against an Asshole. The ones who gives me a mental jarring match. The guy who forces me to play Devil’s Advocate to get into his twisted mind. The man who is up for a challenge.