Everyone On Tinder Is My Boyfriend
I recently told a coworker the news: I have a boyfriend. But it’s a different boyfriend every night. No, I’m not sleeping with seven dudes a week, but like anyone who is actively dating, I have multiple suitors, and they check in with me periodically over Tinder — or text, if we’ve gotten that far.
They ask me how I’m spending my Saturday, and when I tell them I’m bringing 48 bagels through security for my step-grandmother’s memorial, they say they’re sorry, tell me about their beloved grandmothers, how much it would mean to lose them. When my plane is about to leave they say, have a safe flight! Sometimes they write during my layover, and because we’re both bored I tell them how I’m wasting the day at General Mitchell International Airport in Milwaukee. When I say I’m on my first date with a girl they see that for the milestone it is, and ask when we can go on our first date. When I’m traveling in San Francisco, they text me after the earthquake to ask if I’m okay, and I say I slept right through it. When I tell them I’m having surgery, they ask if I need anything, send flowers, get well soons and ridiculous GIFs on request.
I check in on them too, asking them about their days and weekends. When they say they didn’t get anything done, I point out how much they work, and ask if they can take it easy. When they say they didn’t make it back from their travels, I ask them to make New York their mission because second dates are just as important as first dates. When they say a stranger has appeared on their porch, I tell them I’m worried, and when I find out it’s the neighbor, everything is okay again. When they have a bad day, I ask why. If they say they fucked something up, I ask them where we can find the space to be human.
In the age of the future, we act like the Internet is the enemy. We bemoan Tinder and every other app or site that brings us to our knees by admitting that we are very much alone. But I’m finding that I’m not alone at all. No, I don’t spend lazy Sundays with a beau — the ultimate in relationship yumminess — but I’m also not settling for a man, any man. And in any case, there is humanity to be found online and over text. Perhaps it’s nothing that will end in champagne bottles popping, but it’s far more than forgettable interactions that save us from the mundane.
As I ponder my suitors from afar, I like to think that we’re in an elongated relay race, passing notes back and forth like batons, and eventually some of us will win — at first kisses, hilarious dates, and even *gasp* relationships. Maybe it will work out between us, or maybe we’ll just add something to each other’s days before the track meet comes to a close, the times are tallied and medals awarded.
I haven’t met each suitor in person, and I probably won’t. Some will fade into the background, others will appear in the foreground. But for now, we can be here for each other, and we can create what being here means.
