Tuesday, July 2, 2013
My roommates introduced me to the trashy dating app called Tinder. It's a hot-or-not rating system with people that have similar interests as you. Two of my roommates brought home several different girls in the course of the week (and made out with each of them). Mind you though that these aren't the girls you look for as marriage material; belly button piercing, fake tan, exstensions, dresses like a floozy.
I downloaded tinder to see if any girls found me attractive and raise some confidence and maybe get a NSA hookup. I ended up liking a picture of a girl I didn't realize I knew as an aqantance through one of my friends. She liked my picture and then added me on facebook. We began texting and then she's been wanting to hang out everyday.
We've had a lot of fun. We have the same sense of humor. I got my rig into a wreck this weekend off roading. She was there and was able to stay calm and talk me through my anxiety attack, which I thought was pretty cool.
Tonight we went for gelati and a drive. She annoyingly took my phone and wouldn't give it back. She started questioning me about my motives on Tinder and my dating life. I was honest with her... To a point. I told her I wasn't dating because it just has to feel right and I wait for that moment. I told her I was on Tinder because I feel lonely all the time right now. I told her a part of me just wanted a hook up. I told her I feel ready to move on to the next stage in my life; marriage, kids, med school. I told her I have severe dating anxiety and that I don't trust girls especially since Suzanne.
She was obviously hinting around about us getting together. But I avoided the topic because I'm not interested. She didn't take it well. She got quiet. Her voice got cold and snappy. She asked if I wanted to go home.
What the hell did she want me to say? Was I supposed to tell her I'm still pining over losing my best friend. That I'm technically waiting on Jane. That I'm gay? Here she is getting all pissed at me for a bunch of things that are out of my control.