If you type “how to get over a crush” in Google, you are in for a treat. There are tons and tons and TONS of sites out there dispensing advice on love and relationships, you can read yourself to death. But basically the information you get is all the same and from my accurate research, there is really only one remedy that works and one mantra: there’s plenty of fish in the sea. So you get out there and find someone even hotter, or since that may prove to be extremely hard in my case, you just find someone else who, case in point, likes you more – not as hard, since anything > 0.

Men in my life have been scarce. I won’t pretend I remember all the names of the people I snogged, but people I had sex with can be sadly literally counted on the fingers of one hand. I may have had my mental disorders and lack of confidence but I am detecting a pattern here.

Let’s just forget about high school: to stupid, too badly dressed, too young.

  • My major in college was humanities, foreign languages to be exact. Ever been to a faculty? It’s the dream of any Engineering student: a cornucopia of girls of any type.
  • My sport: plenty of men, hardly any of them straight.
  • I work in a company with 11 employees, 6 of them in my office, the others elsewhere. Yes, the average age is 50, married with kids and if they weren’t I would be way worse off.
  • I drive almost every day to work, I don’t usually use public transport because it takes longer and I inversely commute: from the city to the suburbs. The bus is constantly empty.
  • I live in a residential area, the typical inhabitant of my block is the 78-year-old widow.
  • All of my friends are engaged, no wild parties anymore. No laundromat, I have a washing machine at home.

Do you see a pattern too?

Notable exceptions: snowboard club was just fine, although “rulez” doesn’t rhyme with “brain”. I’m picky, I know. Campus was extremely fine too while I was there, hooked up a lot indeed. It’s a wonderful place, but the older alumni recently turned 25.

So, erm: where?

So I tried the closest thing to “It’s raining men”: online dating. Wow. The sole idea of scrolling hundreds of pictures is reassuring. Granted, 90% of them are so ugly it hurts to even look at them, quite too many look like they think they are on Vogue, but here and there it is remotely possible to find something agreeable. I did, yesterday, so now I’m considering becoming a paying member. For one reason mostly: it’s fun. It’s fun to shop in this human supermarket, spotting expired products, laughing at corny quotes in their profiles, being shocked at the most horrific grammatical errors, cursing the fact that any boy I like is a Taurus and finding out that cutie I just added to my favourites did check out my profile and send me a message! Which I cannot read, since I’m not a paying member and that stings. Eh, the marketing of sex…

There’s only one thing holding me back: lies. Not theirs, not that I care, mine. I avoided some, preferring not to disclose details such as “my relationship status”. But somehow this feels even more wrong than with coach. After all, if you casually meet someone while doing something else and casually fall for them, hey it’s not your fault, it’s not like you did it on purpose. It just happened. This? Doesn’t just happen. I spontaneously created a profile, deliberately withholding information – in the best case scenarios – and willingly look for single guys I’d like to date. And I really do, the ones I found yesterday, I would go out with them today. But then again, what do I tell them? It starts as just chatting, but I kind of hope it might evolve in some circumstance. When and how do I tell them? And how much will it nag if they just turn me down for that?

Yet it seems to be the only way I can turn my day around when everything else is bad. It gives me hope. So how wrong can it be?

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