Some swiping, some ranting…An end-of-the-world relationship log

Day 1: Waitwaitwaitwaitwas?
Day 2: Checked hinge and bumblebee. The Fellows publish Sadface emojis at the “Best Travel Story” prompt. Do you need more sources of Sadface? Deleted apps.
Day 7: I dreamed I was attending an ex’s wedding and I met all ex exes, each with a supermodel-style wife and child-model-style kids. Woke up angry at all parties – including fantasies.

Day 23: WhatsApping storms with multiple earlier and ongoing flames, near and far – when the world goes down you can warm up on all the available fires, yes? Yes.

Day 28: Read an essay on lockdown romances titled “Loneliness is Other People.” At this line it gasped loudly: “For the single among us, the emergence of the coronavirus was like the sudden silence in a game of musical chairs; Immediately, the people we happened to meet – many of whom we had already considered incompatible, and no doubt vice versa – were the people we were with. “
Day 37: BFF, a partner without a partner, said on video chat: “We should have married at 24, like all the girls we judged to be married at 24. Now they’re locked up with their husbands and we’re sending memes to boys we’ll never be
Goodbye. “
Day 42: attempted sexting. Moved lamp near the bed for hot porn lighting. Took about 80 timer-click selfies. Liked exactly four. Sent to three different LDFs (Long Distance Flames) to maximize the validation-to-effort ratio. Got plenty of confirmation. Still felt empty inside. Kind.
Day 55: Muting Two Separate “Blessed To Be Caged Together!” Couples on Instagram.
Day 72: Read the NYT article titled “How To Do This First During Quarantine” for ideas for video chat date activities like “Take a tour of your refrigerator and ask him to close his Open. ”Of course, yes, a girl’s dream – peeping into a stranger’s fridge via a broken FaceTime connection during a global pandemic.
Day 94: I was impressed that sexting is basically writing down a porn script that is never produced.
Day 113: The show from Hell called “Indian Matchmaking” appeared on Cultureverse to further horrify singles. Binged it, was doubly afraid of “ending up alone,” just calmed down the way I can – reading feminist disquisitions about marriage. In a favorite from Sharanya Manivannan’s genre, she writes: “The harsh criticism fails to fill certain gaps; it doesn’t put its arm around you while you sleep; it cannot dance slowly with you or hold your hand in a turbulent airplane. But it recalibrates your own self-esteem. ” Yes.
Day 121: Six hours of doom scrolling on Twitter. Um, so a couple of updates: the pandemic continues. Fascism continues to march on large democratic states. Judicial institutions continue to be undermined by megalomaniacs. Old social rifts continue to be deliberately expanded into violent abysses for electoral gains. Disempowered populations continue to pay the highest prices for each of these developments. On the one hand, this is not an ideal chill mood for building new relationships. On the other hand, Rihanna once found love in a hopeless place.

Day 122: Bumble downloaded again at 2:20 am, swipeswipeswipematched, and at 2:24 am an Arun said hello. He made a bad joke, I made a bad joke, he said, “I’m impressed.” He told me his “favorite joke ever,” which was a really horrible play on words that made me laugh out loud, and for a second, in the glow between my screen and my face, I felt like I was going well on the first date. At 3:45 am we said goodnight and at 9:09 am he wrote, “Hello,” but I woke up and got to work and forgot to check hinge for … months.

Day 150: Heard from a friend about an ex’s engagement, swore under my breath, accused me of not being happy for him, scolded BFFs about how straight people’s decision to get married, knowing everything we’re in Know year 2020 is a betrayal of feminism and LGBTQ + ally. BFFs laughed and graciously exclaimed my appropriation of the social justice discourse not as emotional armor.

Day 162: Felt a surge of appreciation for this casual connection from years ago that, bless him, never stopped sending fire emojis. Reliably cheeky without ever going into seriousness or simplicity. A real MVP.

Day 179: Remembered Dating Apps. Put zombie swiping in bed until I’ve “looked through all the bees in the area” on one and “seen everyone that suits my preferences” on another. Woke up to 38 new messages from 38 new matches. Felt nothing. Answered to none.

Day 190: BFFs and I spent an hour on a video call discussing a fantasy for the future. Here’s the deal: we live in a building with several bungalows where everyone has a big house to himself (we are enormously rich in this fantasy … or everyone is … or money as a concept doesn’t exist … unsafe ); progressive movements have ousted all divisive leaders; Weeds are legal and endogamy is not; Prisons were abolished; Therapy is generally available; All trials on earth are open trials. romantic partners come and go; We maintain our own gardens.

Note: Based on real events, with just enough detail that has been falsified or fictionalized to protect identities, hearts and, um … perspectives.

DISCLAIMER: The views expressed above are the author’s own.

Comments are closed.