Well,
Yeah, I'm done. Done with online dating, that is.
If you've never had to do it, count your blessings. You may have no idea how HARD it is to meet someone normal, or at least less crazy than the last guy.
You guys.
It's HARD. Seriously hard.
But, but, but...my best friend's cousin's neighbor met the love of their life online!
Fabulous! That's great! I'm happy for them!
THEY ARE NOT ME AND I HAVE A WEIRDO MAGNET, REMEMBER?!
I'm telling you, it's HUGE and probably invisible, but it's definitely there.
So the last time we talked, there was a PROSPECT. He said things pretty much exactly how I would say them, he had the same reading habits as me, and YOU GUYS. He was as nuts as they come.
Things started out fine. I went online to delete my account, because remember how I was getting only weirdos? I had a message from THE GUY and I was so excited and I didn't delete my account.
#REGRETS
So we started chatting, and all was going well, and we were thinking we should meet up soon so that we could determine whether or not to proceed. After my last experience with online dating (the time I was engaged to the probable serial killer), I knew I needed to be able to meet them in person and see if there was anything that threw up a red flag.
We made plans to meet on my way down to Utah. It would be easy for me to swing through Logan on my way to Provo, so that made the most sense. I was excited! I was going to meet an actual guy, and one who loved reading and World War II, and on paper, you guys, he was literally perfect.
Until the conversation continued.
Oh. My. Goodness.
Then he started talking about raging hormones. As in, he literally said I HAVE A MASSIVE CASE OF RAGING HORMONES GOING ON AND WHAT THE HECK AM I EVEN SUPPOSED TO INFER FROM THAT?! I can tell you what I DID infer, but I won't, and you're welcome.
My mom thought maybe I'd opened the door to that one, because I'd said something about not being terribly experienced and it having been a long time since my last real relationship. Okay, I can grant that, but he SO did not have to come back with that. I was creeped out.
To be honest, the whole thing was starting to remind me of the serial killer, and I knew I COULD NOT go through that again. Not that this guy was a serial killer, or gave off those vibes, because he totally didn't. It's just that it seemed like it was starting to take over my entire day. This is not entirely his fault, because when he messaged, I responded. Excitement, y'all. But it got to be too much. WAY too much. I couldn't let that happen. I stopped responding, thinking that I'd get back in touch the next day (this was before the raging hormones came out). The last message I saw from him was "Have you been thinking of me during the hours we've been apart?" EWWWWWWWW. Not endearing AT ALL. Why are you suddenly turning into stalker dude?!
I didn't respond to that one, because I'd already decided to just not talk until the next day. But when I woke up, there were 43 messages from him. FORTY THREE. What the actual heck?! Why do I need to know what was on his mind at 2:37 in the morning?! No thank you. I didn't read a single one of them because I knew I'd have major regrets, and nope.
So I just didn't say anything and I deleted my account. I'm done with the crazy, you guys. DONE.
And in the end, I'm SUPER THANKFUL that I didn't give him any contact information. No need to change email addresses or phone numbers this time. WHEW.
