My Letters to Lourdes

Just Faking It

October 21, 2020

Dear Grandma,

I figured I should put the date because why not. This could be a journal too. I could track my progress. I want to tell you that there is another reason why I'm writing you a letter. It's because I am miserable. I'm falling apart. I thought I would be happy when I got out of a relationship. I thought I could be happy with a "single" status. I am happy with the independence and the freedom. But how come I get angry and sad whenever I see couples holding hands? Especially when they are talking so closely, laughing, kissing, hugging. I forgot how hard it was to be alone. I should know how to do it; I've been single for 19 years before I started dating. I survived 19 years of my life without dating anyone. However, when I reminisce about my single life at night, all I remember are the frequent crying, the silent sobs, and the kicking and slamming of the wall because I was lonely and helpless. My coworker Monica said that I shouldn't let one bad guy ruin my whole dating life. She said that I just need to know more guys because there are diverse fishes in the sea. In the past months, I began exploring and celebrating my new freedom and followed Monica's advice. When you go to a dating app, you have to know what you want. I didn't know what I wanted the past months, though. I tell myself that the last thing I want is to be chained and held down by a guy again while connecting with random guys. However, holding someone's hand on the way to the theater, a spontaneous trip to the beach, or a surprise boba date after a long exhausting day was never unwelcome to me. I didn't know if I wanted a boyfriend or not. I sailed, not knowing where exactly I wanted to go. Thus, the dilemma added more fuel to the fire.

I moved on from Jordan, or so I thought. As a part of being single and free again, I downloaded Tinder. It's an app, like Facebook, except that Tinder is used for dating. So, when you go to the Tinder app, you'll see a bunch of guys' pictures and some information about themselves. After that, you decide whether they're cute or not by swiping left for no or right for yes. If the person you swiped right to likes you too, you will be matched with him and be able to start a conversation through chat. It's a very easy way to know people. The crisis about Tinder, like any other technology, is that when you put it on human hands it tends to get evil. You know, like the invention of the bomb, which was meant to end the war, but you end up hurting more people than before.

The first person I ever met on Tinder was Liam. I think he was the most beautiful guy I ever met on Tinder. He was born and raised in Jordan (I know, fate is a big joke). He was six feet tall, slim body build, broad shoulders, light complexion, straight black hair, shaved face, long eyelashes, tall nose, kissable red lips, hairy chest (if it matters), and shiny white teeth. He's a data analyst—a smart, super good-looking guy with the most charming smile. In summary, he's 10/10 hot in which I felt inferior to. We talked inconsistently for three weeks. Though I know Liam and I only talked about sex and only planned to do just that when we met, he was the first in this line of men to push me to my own addicting misery. Liam opened my eyes to a game I strongly believe men created. The hunting single's game. This game proves that in this cold, cold world, there is a way to seek warmth for free and without the burden of keeping the fire burning. The game enables you to enjoy the privileges of having a partner without the responsibilities. It also enables you to enjoy the heat and tenderness of another person's hand without the attachment. Lastly, this game lets you hop from person to person without violating any rules of loyalty or earning consequences for such a sinful act. This was the game of the generation that I got addicted to. I thought that this game was what I wanted and that I was capable of playing it well. As lost as I am about not knowing what I truly wanted, I didn't know myself, my abilities, my strengths, and my weaknesses either. I overestimated myself.

Liam and I never kissed, but we met our goals with each other. He never kissed me, but he pleasured all the same. I felt objectified for the first time. Our encounter in his house was the first and last one. I wanted to see him again, but he replied that his girlfriend wouldn't like him to see me. I remember the cold breeze that swept the back of my neck and the sharp jab that cut through my ego and femininity when he said he had a girlfriend. I know this is an evil world, but I still get surprised by how evil it could be. Such monster he was behind his Prince Charming smile.