Dating is hard. Filling out a dating profile is harder.
The blank text box taunts me. It also reflects me: blank.
Tell us about yourself. Hobbies, interests, activities.
The struggle is real. Who has time for hobbies? When I come home after the daily grind of work, I’m too tired to do anything. I pull shut the curtains, turn on Netflix, and lose myself in endless hours of contrived programming until I drift asleep. During the day I browse all the recipes on Tasty that look so easy to make, and I tell myself that this is it, this is the day I make myself an impressive One-Pot Chicken Fajita Pasta, or maybe give myself a little kick with some Buffalo Fried Calamari, and one day, my Instagram feed with definitely be drooling over my Cincinnati Chili Spaghetti.
But not tonight.
Tonight I’m doing this, filling out this dating profile that I only bought a membership for because it was half-priced on Groupon. Prompted by my bestie, who would get a double discount if she bought it along with my friend, I couldn’t say no. I need to get back into the dating game, I told myself. What happened with Justin was an isolated incident. It will never happen again. Not all men are like that. There has to be one man out there for me, someone who will click with me.
The prompts taunt me. Tell us about yourself. What are your dreams and aspirations?
My dreams and aspirations?
I type my response into the text field.
Aimless. I am aimless. If I had to describe myself in one word, it would be aimless. I have no direction. No hopes and aspirations. I did, once upon a time, but they got crushed. Now I wake up every morning and toil away at a job I hate, to pay for a condo I hate, and I’m trapped. Trapped in an endless cycle, with no exit to take to get out.
I re-read what I just wrote, and then delete it all. No, that’s not right. I’m not completely aimless.
I’m looking for someone. And something.
And I’ll never stop searching until I find my direction.