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These are the rules of modern romance

I’m just not that into them

As a 20-year-old woman, I’d say I’m still in the early stages of the dating game. I consider myself fairly lucky to have met all of my previous boyfriends in person first and built a friendship before a relationship. But this year, I found myself newly single and naïve to the modern dating world. I went through the normal phases of a break-up — the initial sadness and refusal to get out of bed, followed by consuming enough chocolate to feed a small town for a week — let’s not talk about that — and drinking too much wine and announcing that “I’m never speaking to another boy again.” Finally, my friends convinced me to “get back out there” and “take my mind off it” and download Tinder.

At first, I found it quite fun — although perhaps this was due to the bottle of wine I’d nearly finished — swiping merrily, as though I was playing a game, feeling like I’d won when I got the vibration letting me know I’d matched with someone. During this time, I perfected my talent of making a snap judgement of someone in under three seconds, based on their pictures, short biography and whether they were holding a dead fish or not. The messages I received from some of the guys who “slid into my DMs” were unusual to say the least.

“Do you like whales? If so, do you want to come and hump back at mine?” followed by a whale GIF.

“Are you Dumbledore, because I heard you’re the real head master?”

One guy used an interesting combination of emojis to show his intentions. I’ll leave that one up to your imagination.

Within the first few weeks, the app started to lose its appeal. If, miraculously, I found someone worthy of meeting up with, then I’d have to face the many unspoken rules of texting. Huddled around my iPhone with my friends firing instructions at me, more thought would go into crafting each message than I ever gave to homework.

Be flirty but not too much — play hard to get. Use the right emojis — don’t slip an eggplant in there unless that’s really your intention. Don’t double text. Don’t talk about your feelings. Pretend to be busy. Leave a certain amount of time before replying. Double their response time. For example, if they take 10 minutes to reply, you take 20 — an idea I found ridiculous. If each person follows this rule then you’ll end up going years without talking. I’d never put so much thought into appearing thoughtless, and it was exhausting.

By following these rules, you can secure yourself an actual date — or is it a date? Neither of you are sure because one of the rules is not to label it — you’re just “hanging out.” If you’re lucky, you can score yourself something more than just “Netflix and chill,” perhaps even dinner. But remember — it’s not a date. Sure, he might pay for your meal. Sure, he might ask you to “hang out” again some time. Sure, you might even have sex with him. Still not a date.

For some bizarre reason, society has decided that the person who cares less about the relationship has the upper hand. The next few months will generally follow these three steps — First, you’ll go on dates that aren’t actually dates. Then, your relationship will flourish into “seeing” each other — which basically means the other person is probably screwing around, but it’s okay because you aren’t actually dating. Finally, one of you will broach the “what are we” topic, and you’ll decide to be exclusive. 

Don’t be fooled, this doesn’t mean you’re going out yet — although for the life of me, I can’t tell you what the difference is, apart from the title. One day, perhaps when you’re married with children, or when your hair is gray and your teeth have fallen out, your lover will grasp your wrinkled, arthritic hand and finally ask you to be his girlfriend. Maybe you’ll even make it “Facebook Official” — a sign of your partner’s unconditional love for you and the highest form of flattery. 

This is the dating world we live in, and I have to say — I’m not a fan. If I don’t follow these rules, then I lose the game and any chances of finding true love and end up living with dozens of cats who eventually eat my decaying body when I die in my home alone. I don’t want love to be a game. I don’t want to play by these rules. If this is how my future dating life has to be, then I wholeheartedly reject it.

Yes, asking someone out over technology is less awkward, and it’s easy to erase a message and pretend the whole thing never happened. It’s easy to hide behind a screen — easy to shape and edit the personality you want to show. But love isn’t supposed to be easy. Love is a mess, and life is a mess, too. There isn’t a set of rules that you can follow to make it all fall neatly in place.

If someone makes you happy, let them know. If you like being with someone, tell them. If you want to talk about your feelings, then why the hell not? Life is too short to waste time playing games.

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