And we're gone....again. I'll coincidentally be leaving Match very close to my 35th birthday, in the first week of May if you must know, as sort of a little gift to myself. No, it isn't because I've found someone and we're leaving in two weeks to elope and live on a cloud overlooking snow white beaches populated by romping puppy dogs and robust money trees, although that would be ideal. I thank some of you who left me some very kind words regarding my well-written profile and to those of you who winked but just couldn't muster up the finger strength to translate an emoticon into a eloquent sentence. I even experienced a few very pleasant dates! I've found that I make a very good friend, which is a wonderfully poignant and timely life lesson. I've also been told my previous profile was, well, just too long. Heaven forbid we spend four minutes reading about someone whose picture book we liked enough to browse but not enough to read the attached words. If there were a coloring section I bet Match could expand its market tenfold!
Obviously this is coming across a bit cynical. I do apologize. Many of you will see this as the departing words of a disheartened dissident, and perhaps they are. I truly, truly wanted to meet someone nice, someone like-minded and compatible. We all do! And I honestly hope some of you do, really. However, modern online dating has become akin to buying a used car or shopping for groceries. "Oh, he's got A/C but boy is his gas mileage bad!" "Sale on mid-level executives, with a full head of hair who enjoy camping and yoga retreats, on aisle nine!" How can a person be boiled down to a list of likes and dislikes? It seems that there is a very large downside to this hyper selectivity, with every detail at a persons fingertips allowing for glib evaluation of a very complex subject. Maybe everything shouldn't be boiled down to a social media post; our cyber-self left completely exposed to the harsh digital elements. I feel that somehow we've lost something, placed it on the altar of convenience in the name of efficiency, but I'm not sure what that something is. I almost wish, almost, that we could return to when I had to ask your father for permission to date you if I promised to have you home by eleven, but I think I'd dread seeing his checklist more than yours.
If you made it this far through my rant I invite you to write and share your thoughts, ill or otherwise. Good luck to all of you and may you find your, wait for it....Match!
