Towards the end of August, I let my match.com membership expire. I knew from past experience that dating is time consuming, so my approach was to do a one month membership, see what happened, let it expire, take a break, and try again.
Just before it expired, I met Dave, who was the by far the most promising prospect of the month. We hit it off, had a brief honeymoon period, and then things quickly fizzled out…because of the sex. Neither of our libidos were cooperating consistently enough to reach true honeymoon status. Whatever feelings had begun to blossom began to fade away so slowly, I barely noticed until I realized they were gone. I didn’t even have to finish the list I started to realize it was over.
We only spoke once last week. I knew he had plans to visit family for a long weekend this past weekend. We said we would talk on Friday, but neither of us called the other. Clearly, whatever attentiveness he once had was gone. The honeymoon had ended before it had started. A few minutes ago, out of curiosity, I did a search on the match.com web site of men in his age range in our zip code (without logging in). Sure enough, a few pages in, his profile shows up. I was curious to see how long it’s been since the last time he logged in.
It says “online now!”.
That kind of hurts. Not that we had yet reached the point of exclusivity, but this feels crappy. I am already disgusted with myself for putting my own health at risk to accommodate his “erectile dysfunction.” And I am in the middle of switching meds to address my own libido issues, which are no longer seeming too relevant. I’m kind of pissed, but I know I can’t fall into that “poor me” trap. For all I know, he gave into curiosity and has been reading my blog…and is trying to nurse his wounded ego back to health.
After all, there are two sides to every story (well, three if you count the truth).