As i’ve been traversing the strange and new (for me) world of Tinder these last 3 months, I have had to contend with forms of rejection and disappointment that are unfamiliar to this 22 year old soul. I’m no stranger to these feelings at their base level, lord knows I battled worse variations after my relationship ended, but I am now presented with thoughts and feelings of a similar nature, that I deem to require different actions, and methods of coping due to their erratic nature.
While the rejection I faced at the end of my relationship was slow coming, and slow burning, the world of app dating provides a relative ‘bag of lit fireworks’ in comparison; connections can erupt beautifully in a flash, and then fizzle out in an instant, leaving a dull, faded imprint at the forefront of your mind, and the words, “Is that it? Is it over?” lingering on your tongue.
I’ll be the first to admit, I am no Casanova. I don’t have a strong jawline, a particularly charming smile, or a ripped physique (yet); but I am content with how I look, and it doesn’t bother me much. This means, however, that my Tinder experience does not consist of weekly dates, or oodles of matches and potential love interests falling at my feet. In the last couple of months I have spoken seriously with a handful of girls, and been on dates with two. I’m personally pretty happy with these figures. From this relatively limited data set, I have noticed a trend that, as I have already mentioned, leaves me in a sort of ‘emotional daze’, like someone has set off a sparkler 3 inches from my face.
My general approach to Tinder is to try and be myself, or as close to myself as I can be. This, more often than not, involves being honest, truthful, and open from the outset. I find that if a girl is genuinely someone I think I could end up with, they respond quite well to this, and conversations can get very deep and intense almost instantaneously. It’s engaging conversations like these, void of single word replies and generic “what are your hobbies?” questions, that evoke strong feelings in myself, that can be interpreted as the fabled ‘spark’.
I can generally get a good sense of whether a girl is interested in me by the way she responds to this kind of conversation, and there have been a few instances where it really does feel like there could be something, something genuine and different, something exciting, ready to burst forth from both of us. Sounds pretty awesome right? That’s what I think every time, until, like the climax of a fireworks show, all the noise and excitement ends in an instant.
About 90% of the time, these thrilling conversations will end when the girl decided not to reply. Maybe a day or two go by, and I chalk it up to her being busy. We all know, though, that every 20 something is attached to their phone; it is an extension of them, as sad as that sounds. I know deep down, that even if a girl was super busy, if she liked me, she’d make time to text, she wouldn’t leave me hanging for 1, 2, 3 days.
I give these girls the benefit of the doubt though, I don’t know everyone’s story, what they’re going through, what might have come up, etc. Maybe i’ll get a text a few days down the line, with no reference to the reason behind the silence; and it won’t be a text that leads anywhere. At this point, it becomes pretty obvious that she’s either lost interest, or likes to be chased, to fulfil some kind of ego fix or something. No judgement, everyone likes to have their ego stroked, to feel wanted and desired, to have a sense of power; but i’m not looking for that kind of thing. I’m looking for someone who likes me, and appreciates me enough to talk to me, who isn’t going to deliberately ghost me for a bit just to keep me keen or establish some kind of social dominance.
This outcome always leaves me feeling the same way. Deflated, and burned out. I always kick myself, for thinking how perfect this girl was, and how perfect the potential relationship was going to be. I feel like i’m a child, wrapped up in my coat and hat, that’s given a sparkler on fireworks night; i’m infatuated with the colour, the sound, the magic of this mini explosion in my grasp. I get mesmerised by the beauty of it, my gaze fixated on the hot centralised flash, failing to realise how it creeps closer and closer to my hands, as if it were a docile creature gaining trust; when all of a sudden my little fingers get singed, and what was an experience full of joy and wonder mere milliseconds ago, is replaced by one of pain, one from which a lesson must be learned.
Like the child learns not to let the sparkler burn their fingers, I have learned to deal with unexplained rejection from girls who I otherwise believed to be invested and interested. I tell myself that if they’re the kind of girl that is only in this for an ego boost, or likes to play games with emotions, then they’re simply not the kind of girl I want to be with anyway, regardless of how pretty, clever, and similar they are to myself.
I now have to constantly go through the stages of acceptance, and moving on, almost as quickly as the firework romance began and ended. There is no point brooding over the small details of what was said, and how maybe I did or said something that just killed the spark and I didn’t even realise. I just have to accept that sometimes the feelings are just not mutual, and that not everyone deals with that in the same way that I would.
These feelings are far from the same as those I experienced after my breakup. My post breakup tactics for acceptance were to evaluate my flaws (of which there were many), to create a kind of roadmap that led to the downfall of the relationship. I had to learn to better myself, to improve; whereas now, it’s not about what I did wrong, it’s not about what anyone did, wrong or right. It’s just about accepting the situation at face value, moving on, and not investing too much thought into it the how’s and why’s. One firework goes off, and another follows close behind.
It’s another valuable lesson for me, it makes me stronger and more resilient; and actually even makes me appreciate the selfishness of single life a little more. Despite this, I still hope and dream that one day, i’ll have a firework connection that lasts, that doesn’t burn out, that continues to dazzle me, seemingly without end; my forever firework.
