Song about your best friend dating your ex boyfriend
This is also the phase when you begin the dreaded coital dance known as dating. But eventually, I matched with a handsome enough 30-something who was OK with skipping the small talk.
As is common with short actors, this guy was very fond of himself, and within minutes he was playing aloud a recording of himself singing a song from his upcoming off-Broadway show.As I politely smiled and nodded along to the ballad—a duet!—blasting from his phone, I tried my best to conceal the actual shivers of terror running down my spine.Next, naturally, he asked me if I was into threesomes.Although he posed it less as a question and more as an offer, adding that he’d had a few threesomes in the past that were “OK or whatever,” but he’d be willing to have another if it’s what wanted.I said it was very generous of him, and before I knew it, he was leading me into a nearby gay bar, where he suggested I “find a girl for a group sex,” despite the fact that 98 percent of the people in the bar were gay men.
It was when he attempted to grind with me to a Lana Del Rey techno remix that I finally made my escape.
But it wasn’t a true escape, because in the following days and then weeks, Tinder guy’s texts were incessant, despite my complete lack of response.
Three months deep into my break-up, I have experienced almost all of them.
First there’s shell shock, followed by denial, and then some combination of paralysis, anger, and loneliness.
Then there’s this period where you just feel numb and find yourself staring at inanimate objects, having really cliché, intro-to-philosophy-type thoughts like, “What is happiness, anyway?
” Eventually, after you’ve regained at least some of your dignity, you enter the classic “I’ll show them! This is when your brain tries to trick your heart into thinking that you’ve moved on, and you suddenly have tons of energy for things you’ve never cared about before, like alphabetizing your bookshelves and figuring out what the best food podcasts are, even though you never cook and literally don’t own a single pan. Funnily enough, despite Tinder’s reputation as a hook-up app, most people don’t want to meet soon after matching, but rather engage in hours of meaningless texting—about the latest trendy food hybrid, about how Brooklyn is so expensive—which is something I can’t stand doing with friends, let alone strangers.