I’m here for the gossip so scooch over and let’s get to it.
When the first lockdown became apparent and life as we knew it was scooped up and thrown into hades, I learned that human touch was a very much-needed physiological need. I’m sure I heard Abraham Maslow laughing at me from the afterlife. Anyway, I reactivated my bumble, tinder, match, hinge, and stranger danger accounts for the hundredth time. Facepalm. What did you want me to do? I’m a single woman living in a foreign country in a small city beyond the mountains. The odds were against me already. Thank God for this internet age. Now all I had to do was get off my tooshie and start texting. Gone were my dreams of snatching up a moneybags Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy with only my good family name. Contrary to popular belief and by belief, I mean current souls having this innate fear of calls, I prefer calls. I loathe texting. Lazy fingers here. During calls, all that needs to be said can be communicated and I can get back to enjoying nature or reading a book or crocheting or binging my animes in peace without the constant distraction from notifications. But here I was playing Russian roulette on a texting drawing board. So, after weeks of swiping left because of my impeccable taste, I did score a few beings but none of them became meaningful. It was their fault not mine even if I was the only constant factor. I was forced to reanimate all the chic-flick breakup moments like I was a teen again. One feigned a two-week migraine to avoid seeing me. Apparently, my presence made him sick literally. Four of them ghosted me after weeks of intensely texting my fingers to the bone. One blocked me and then thought I could accept his snap chat request. No, thank you, next. One kept on insisting that I send him an unfiltered photo of myself and after days of being haunted by said request, I sent him a pic of me after a 12-hour shift with my Sundstrom mask lining still dented in my face and he was like…bye b!tch…and blocked me for effect. Several just wanted to score an African tooshie and I was like, hell no! I don’t want to become your statistic. The unsolicited eggplant senders deserve a mention too. This back-and-forth male-infused drama went on for months. I can’t even get that time back. I have suffered in this world. Lucky me. Come 2021, I did myself a favor and deactivated all my accounts permanently. That was my gift from me to me. The only resolution I have kept to date. I have never known such peace.
Till next time,
~Evelyn Nec
