I admit, the title sounds a little more dramatic than it actually is but now that I have your attention, here we go. The fact that this story is based on a match that happened over a year ago does say a lot. And yes, I feel a bit silly, but it’s safe to say, after a million years of being single and not caring about men most of the time, it’s nice to know that I can still obsess over a guy and I guess feel something. Which is probably a little exaggerated. I didn’t fall in love, I was just interested enough to care.

So in August of 2019, I matched with someone on Tinder. One of his pictures just totally got to me. And my friends and my mom were totally like: “Yeah, that’s so your type.” Anyway, we matched, we started texting for hours and I was up until two in the morning, enjoying every minute of it. The thing is, I get bored pretty quickly – in person and over text. So for someone to keep me engaged for hours was surprising but fun. And I immediately turned into someone constantly checking their phone, smiling when there was a message, impatient when there wasn’t. It was wonderful.

It felt completely natural from the start. We were vibing and we totally had a similar way of witty texting with a mixture of German and English and lots of humor. He was into 90s rap music and a 12-year-old kid at heart just like me. I didn’t care that he was a tiny bit shorter than me or that he planned on moving to Canada in a bit. I already saw myself going there on vacation or you know, packing my bags and saying goodbye to friends and family. I was totally into him. And I had just told my mom the day before that if I had an opportunity for an adventure, I would go for it. So all of this made total sense.

And then the texting stopped. I still kick myself for overthinking and not pushing hard enough. He had told me that he wanted to get to know me better and I was completely up for it. I was ready to meet him in person, even though I usually chicken out right away. We texted for a few days and it got less and less enthusiastic each time. I’m mad at myself for not just going for it, straight up asking him where this was going. I just accepted him ghosting me. I didn’t want to seem clingy or pushy. My pride got in the way and I told myself he wasn’t worth it. Maybe he was, maybe not.

For the record, according to social media, he didn’t move to Canada. Yes, I searched the internet high and low to find out more about him and after months of absolutely nothing, I finally ended up successful. That’s what happens when there is a virus out there and you have too much time to kill. I obsessed all over again and didn’t give up. No, I am not a stalker. I consider myself to be more of a private investigator. For a moment, I honestly considered chatting him up on Insta, but that would probably be a bit too embarrassing and I should absolutely get a life.

So what did I learn from this? When I feel like going for it, I should. I honestly didn’t have anything to lose. It was just some guy. However, I was overwhelmed cause I wasn’t used to actually feeling like wanting to give someone a chance. Maybe, in the end, he was just a lying bastard anyway, and it was all for the better. But I guess we’ll never know…

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