The dog days of summer were spent swiping right on Tinder, or rather I would say I took off on a journey from where my definitions of companionship would change.
Swiping right, right, right, right, my whimsical pursuits found me in a mess. Needless to say, three days later I found myself in midst of a picturesque conversation. On the fourth night, my sententious ramblings turned bawdy. And on the fifth night, I reminisced his fingers trying to fit into my nervous sweaty palms and his gaze that pierced my soul. Too old to feel the butterflies in my stomach, I felt something between my legs.
On the sixth day, I left for his place on less than stellar intentions. The address was hard to find, and so was my conscience. A cacophony of the coffee machine, music, a couple of stops, not here! Don’t stop, yes please! went along well with my complaisance. Unable to accept the dichotomy of views and ideas of love, summer and him, I turned cold. We went on to disrupt the monotony of late night calls and mushy good morning texts. Fifteen sleepless nights, forty-eight chocolates and dabbling between who I used-to-be and now-I-am, this delinquency became a habit.
Back again with curious eyes searching out for a “my taste”, fingers automatically going left on squeamish bios in Tinder and lips curving wide and much on vulnerable prospects- New dates smelled of imminent happiness, teenage thrill, and a sweet blasphemy.
Like the downpour of a summer storm washing away the thickness of September humidity, he leisurely beguiled his way into my vulnerable heart. Same old streets and cafes came with a new charm. Sugarcoated words made up for the lack of sweet in my latte. Clean, Swanky Boulevard at the city center took me to a new address, orgasms and belly laugh. A couple of dates later we found ourselves connected, but alone! No, it is not a metaphor. Heads down checking our e-mails, text messages, Snaps, and Facebook notifications, we got used to a new way of being ‘alone together’. The momentary flicker of disinterest behind an ‘attentive listening face’ and a denial for DTR were reasons enough, for me to lay him off.
But interestingly love keeps no record of wrongs. And so I embarked on another journey, a journey of emotions, explorations, and self-worth. It doesn’t cease to change what I do, but who I am. Sure, I wouldn’t understand the mathematics of love but I would understand the sizzling chemistry that lasts till emotions explode. Swiping right and left sure doesn’t change the way we court and it hasn’t for me either.
So I swipe right through my rose tinted glasses, not on a dating site, but an introducing site!! Unlocking paradoxical love, platonic relationships, friendships, confidence, self-love, self-worth, recklessly, and won’t stop certainly until I go through a Cognitive Overload. If you know what I mean.