Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies.
Someone able to carry on a conversation whether the topic is silly or serious. Knowing enough about life so that you always have something to say is a definite bonus.
Sarcastic, sophisticated, witty, dorky, sensitive and free-spirited. Also a fan of adjectives.
I like to flirt with my my feet.
...and why I now require a phone call before meeting anyone in real life.
Dating is hard enough without adding public embarrassment, security guards, and a runaway train. But here I am, surviving to tell the story. We all know dating comes with risks. Sometimes those risks are emotional, sometimes logistical, and occasionally — like in my case — they involve a fully grown adult collapsing in public places for no logical reason. I had high hopes for this date. We'd met on a dating app, and she seemed genuinely lovely. Our messages flowed effortlessly — witty, playful, even a little flirty in the best possible way. There's something magical about those early conversations where everything feels promising, like this could be the start of something real. In hindsight, I probably should have insisted on a phone call first. That simple, four-minute conversation could have prevented what will forever be filed under "Worst Date of My Entire Life." But no, I was caught in the intoxicating trap of good texting chemistry. And texting chemistry… lies.
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