Helen Murray | 2018

So, you’re feeling lonely, or you’re scared of feeling lonely. You consider a dating app. Tinder seems fun. Your best friend met their partner on Tinder. If they can do it, maybe you can too. You download it, and begin swiping, begin matching, begin dating. How do your dates go? Where do they go? How do they end? Or maybe you get lucky and they don’t. Maybe you’re lucky and you find yourself a soulmate on Tinder. But let’s be honest, you probably won’t. Most people don’t right? There’s some statistic that’s been floating around. You can’t remember what it was. But you make a profile and start swiping and eventually, you end up on some dates.

Your date probably goes something like this…

You’re not quite sure how seriously to take this thing, so you wear a shirt that’s kinda ratty but it’s okay because you still look really good in it. Your friends and several strangers have said so. The rest of your outfit isn’t really worth mentioning. It’s almost exactly like what you wear every other day. You’re supposed to meet them for coffee, but when you get there they refuse to go inside. Odd, you think, sitting down next to them on the bench outside the coffee shop. They don’t even have a coffee yet. You think maybe that should be a red flag, but it’s also too soon to say. You wanna give them a chance. You’d want them to do the same.

It’s one of the last warm days of fall, so this kind of date still kind of works. You roll with it. You don’t really have anywhere else to be anyway. You could be working on any of the fifty million things you need to be working on, but you appreciate the distraction. You’d been talking a lot about your shared love of some movie on the app before meeting up, so you continue that conversation animatedly. Soon, you decide to go back to their place to smoke a bowl and watch said show. You’ve already realized you’re not really all that attracted to them, but you see this as an opportunity to make a cool friend. 

This weirdo not only makes you hit their bong dry, as they apparently do with all their new friends, leaving you higher than you’ve ever been in your entire life. They also then misread the situation and try to kiss you. You’re sitting on the couch watching the movie, and that part isn’t even all the romantic. Not that you can really tell because you’re so focused on staying alive at that point, being as high as you are. As far as you can remember, though, no one on screen was touching in any way. You’re so shocked that you made it out of there alive and unkissed, but when you later sober up you realize that you left your sweater there. It was your favorite one, too. Oh well. You’re not going back there. Not in a million years. It’s too bad. Could have been a real cool friendship.

Or maybe your date goes something like this…

It’s the middle of summer, so you’re not looking too cute that day. Your date picks you up in their old van that smells slightly of cigarettes, maybe more than slightly, with flowers and everything. They clearly tried to look cute, even though it’s really fucking hot, and it makes you feel bad. You apologize, and they look you up and down before asking what you’re apologizing for. You’re not sure how this comment makes you feel. After they drive into town and absolutely nail the parallel parking job the two of you go for sushi. You’re not quite sure what to do with the flowers, and they’re not sure either. 

You leave them in the car before walking to the coffee shop. They ask if they can hold your hand and you say yes. Their hand is warm and not sweaty. Yours is kinda sweaty, so you decide to break away. The right choice, probably. They don’t protest. You order your coffees and sit across from each other. You sip in a way that you think seems dignified, watching them as they do so effortlessly. You never knew drinking coffee could be so attractive. Then the two of you walk to a bookstore. Your date offers to buy you the book from the used book section that you pore over for a solid fifteen minutes. You refuse because you don’t want to feel like you owe them anything. You make a mental note to come back for the book tomorrow, but you will probably forget. It was a nice thought.

When you finally part ways in front of the coffee shop and brush hands awkwardly you want to kiss them but something stops you. You won’t stop thinking about it for the rest of the day. And the rest of the night.

Does that not sound quite right? Maybe it’s something like this…

You each agree to bring some stuff to have a picnic by a river sometime at the beginning of the summer. It’s warm, but not too hot yet. You wear some funky patterned pants that flow in the breeze, not wanting to deal with shorts on grass. You make some sandwiches and find a bag of chips you’d forgotten about. They’re stashed at the back of a cabinet you have to stand on tiptoe to reach. You just barely brush the corner of the bag and pull them down. Salted potato chips. Perfect.

You drive to pick them up and when you arrive and ring the doorbell, their roommate answers and gives you a look. You know the look I’m talking about. Your date runs downstairs and apologizes for the delay, to which you reply, it’s fine. Looking at them, it really is fine. Your date asks if you can stop at a coffee shop before you head to the river. They haven’t had their daily caffeine fix yet. You are happy to oblige and drive into town. They hop out and ask if you want anything, but you’re good. You sipped at a coffee already this morning. You watch them run in and make the purchase coffee, leaving their change in the tip jar. 

Then the two of you drive to the river where you share some beers, sandwiches, strawberries, and chips. You sip your beer slowly to ensure that you can still drive home. Your date notices and, sarcastically, calls you responsible. This makes you both laugh. You share music and talk about your families, finding that your individual upbringings are not all the different from each other. The two of you eventually end up wading through the river, pants rolled up, laughing the whole way. 

Soon it’s time to say goodby and drive home. You grab your dates hand and pull them in close. They kiss you and immediately run across the street, almost getting hit by a car. They throw their head back and laugh before turning around and going inside. For some reason, you never end up seeing each other again even though you try, over and over again. Maybe it just wasn’t meant to be.

Actually, maybe it goes something like this…

You both live near the city, so you drive in one day to walk around with them. It’s the very beginning of the winter, so you’re wearing your winter coat. The one that isn’t ugly and dirty. You meet at a coffee shop, and you get there first so you order a coffee and sit near the door so they’ll see you when they come in. You sip your coffee, waiting patiently for nearly fifteen minutes. They text you, letting you know they’ll be there soon. You try not to mind, and focus on the scenery outside. 

You notice all the little piles of snow heaped on the sidewalk and all the people walking by, bundled up. Your date finally arrives and sits across from you. You begin to talk about the weather and other irrelevant and unimportant things, and in your excitement about the holidays that are coming up you manage to knock over the vase that sits in between the two of you. You never thought your love of Christmas and New Years could get you in trouble. The vase hits the floor and shatters. As the cafe employee cleans it up and you apologize profusely, your date chuckles. You get embarrassed. Maybe it’s a little soon for them to be laughing at you. 

You leave the coffee shop after offering to pay for the vase, to the delight of the employee who cleaned up your mess, and begin your stroll through the city. The sounds of the hustle and bustle almost drown out your date as they begin to talk about what they like to do for fun. No matter how much louder they talk, it’s still kind of hard to hear them through the thick hat you’re wearing. You decide to watch their steamy breath instead as their mouth moves forming what you assume are words. When you finally get home you realize that you can’t really remember anything about your date, which doesn’t end up mattering because you never see them again.

It could it go something like this, perhaps…

You’ve been talking, and this person seems really charming. They always know exactly the right thing to say, and always say it at the right time. They have a way with words that you’ve never encountered before. Soon enough, the two of you make plans to meet in a coffee shop. You decide to wear something nice, but not too ostentatious because you want to seem laid back and cool. You arrive fashionably late because, again, you want to seem laid back and cool. You wonder who made up these dumb rules for dating, but you’re not going to stop following them now, are you? 

They have secured a little table by the time you get there. You arrive, and they give you a warm hug.  The conversation flows so naturally, it was as if you had known each other for years. Their charm doesn’t just exist within the app. They invite you over to their place for a meal, and you consider the implications but go anyway. You think, why not? When you get there it’s small and cozy, with warm soft lighting and a color scheme made up of various rich browns. 

You continue talking on the couch for some time, but soon they’ve charmed you all the way into the bedroom. Things are moving faster than you had expected they would, but you think you’re okay with it. They’re just that charming. You wake up the next morning, and they’re already up and making coffee and toast. You roll out of bed, impressed, and shuffle into the kitchen. They flash you that charming smile again. It will be burned into your eyes for the rest of the day, no, the rest of the week. They never text you again, though. You can never really figure out why, and after a while you stop dwelling on it.

No matter how it goes, it’s never really all that fulfilling, is it? These dates never quite go how you expect. The hole in your heart is never quite filled, no matter how many people you meet, how many coffee shops you go to, how many people you smoke with. You’re empty and will be for some time; it’s about time you accept that. Oh, you don’t want to? You would rather keep trying? I think you mean that you would rather keep being disappointed. They say there’s someone out there for everyone. I don’t know who “they” are, but I trust them. Love is out there, you might just have to dig through some shit to find it. But it’s out there. Somewhere. Please do let me know when you find it.

But I think you’ll find it when you stop looking. I think it will be that person in the coffee shop you always go to when you have to get shit done. They’ll keep looking at you, and you’ll tell yourself that they must be looking at someone else. Then, you’ll finally accept that they’re looking at you, hot stuff, and you’ll go over to talk to them. You’ll probably say something kinda dumb, but who doesn’t? It’s still sweet and charming, though. Something like, “Come here often?” 

They’ll reply, “Yeah, actually, I come here when I need to get shit done.”

You’ll laugh and say, “Me too!” Both of you will laugh.

Then you’ll ask what they’re working on, and it’s probably some research paper or a novel or something. That’s not really important. You’ll be about to smile and leave, but then something will stop you. You’ll pivot, walk back over to the table. You’ll ask them what they’re doing later and miraculously, the answer will be nothing. You exchange numbers, go on your first date, then your second, you get the idea. And you weren’t even looking.

I sit in this coffee shop, and hear the door jingle open. I see you enter. My heart begins to race and my eyes are glued to your profile and then the back of your head as you approach the counter and order your drink. I realize that I’ve been staring and hurriedly return to what I was working on, but I can still see your red Carhartt jacket and yellow beanie through my peripheral vision. You pick up your drink and scan the area for a table. I wonder if you’re meeting anyone today. I look up right as your eyes pass over my table and hold your gaze for a moment. I don’t realize that I am holding my breath. You smile at me, but it is a small, tight-lipped smile. The type you give when you feel obligated to smile. You wave hesitantly, wondering why I haven’t reacted. I wave back. You remember me, at least. You know who I am. You find an empty table, however, and go to sit down. You settle into whatever you’re working on and I do too, reluctantly.

So give your heart a break. Love will find you. Don’t worry. Maybe it already has. Maybe it’s been right in front of you this whole time. Just… open your eyes. I’m right here. I’ve been here all along.