Practically all the relationships I know are based on a foundation of lies and mutually accepted delusion.
Ich bin seit zwei Jahren Single und bereit, mich wieder zu verlieben, wenn ich den Richtigen finde. Mein Traummann sollte fleißig, loyal, ehrlich, humorvoll und großzügig sein.
Mein Persönlichkeitstyp ist eher extrovertiert. Man würde mich meist als energiegeladen, liebevoll, fürsorglich, extrem emotional, lebhaft, verständnisvoll, sehr hilfsbereit, warmherzig und leidenschaftlich beschreiben.
I like to flirt with my my face.
...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.
Read more...
