Why Some of Us Will Probably Never Find A Date On Tinder

Because we’ve already found someone who’s our cup of tea.

Dating apps are a popular way to meet people these days. But maybe you don’t have to search that far and wide. You might already know someone who floats your boat without trying.

Sure, there are success stories of people meeting online, falling in love, and being together for a lifetime. I know some friends who met that way. But I’ve never found a love connection from swiping right. At least not yet. Perhaps I never will.

I never liked dating apps. They felt impersonal, so I resisted them for years. I recently thought I’d give it a try anyway, to see if maybe I’d meet someone new. I’ve been single forever, almost ten years. Why not?

I stepped it up when my friend said he didn’t want to take our relationship to the next level. I knew I should move on. Not that I want to move on, but I thought I needed to for my well-being.

Well, he sent me a kilo of yerba maté yesterday. We’d been chatting via text about a typical day for each of us. I mentioned drinking yerba maté instead of coffee. He asked me how I prepare it, so I told him most days, I brew with loose leaf and drink throughout the week.

That’s why he spontaneously decided to send me some loose leaf yerba maté. He knows I enjoy drinking it every morning. Now I’ll think of him every time I sip my yerba.

He’s always doing stuff like that. We live 873 miles away from each other right now. So when the mail carrier brings me an unexpected package, I squeal with delight because I know he sent me a present. I’ve done the same for him.

Gift-giving is one of our love languages. We have an uncanny ability to find what we’d adore and appreciate, especially when it’s something the other needs. It’s our way of saying I want to make you happy and comfortable. I want to make your life easier. And he started it. I’ll casually mention something I need, and I’ll find it on my doorstep a few days later.

I surprised myself when later that night, I jumped on Tinder, searching for potential dates. Maybe it’s because I know he’s not available for a long-term relationship, even if he lived nearby.

Head in the clouds, I’m always gazing up at the stars and letting my heart get caught up in him. He told me he didn’t want to go there with us. I knew I needed to look elsewhere, regardless of that generous yerba maté offering.

I spent an inordinate amount of time editing my Tinder profile after some guy sent me a message that didn’t match with my lifestyle.

He asked, “Are you a joint kind of gal, or do you prefer rips from the bong?” It was hilarious. I wondered why he didn’t know or care that I was clean and sober. Then I discovered I hadn’t yet written a bio on that site. Ahh, that makes more sense.

I took time to dive into it, trying to encapsulate who I’m seeking and what they can expect from me in 500 words or fewer.

For a moment, I earnestly believed I could find a match there. And my match will be the one who reads it. They’ll know what I mean with those few choice words, or they’ll want to know. They’ll make an effort to get to know me.

When I finished the seventeenth edit, I was somewhat satisfied that I demonstrated what I was looking for. I thought I showed them who I am enough to see if we’re in synch.

Then I realized I was describing someone I already know and love. I was attempting to convey that what I want in a relationship with someone just like this person.

How do I tell them how to pay attention to the little things? Can I show them how to know what I’ve been searching for and offer it freely and without effort? Can I tell them how to replicate what he’s already doing for me? What about those practical gifts I appreciate so much? Will they understand how much that means to me?

What if they knew that I’m only on Tinder because we’re not fully together, but not fully apart, either? Am I ethically non-monogamous, or just hoping I find a substitute until the real teacher comes home?

I wouldn’t have said any of this on a Tinder profile. But what’s a single gal to do when I want more than the two of us can handle? I can at least try to convey the truth in a brief snippet. I suppose the right person will ask the right questions.

So there I was, swiping on a dating app when I said it wasn’t my thing. I guess I’ll go out on dates and play the field to fill up my time. But I’ve got to be honest. I’d rather spend time with that one thoughtful, kind, playful human than stay up late trying to sell a partial version of myself. He knows all of my versions. Could I be any luckier?

Now, will I go back to swiping left and sometimes right? Will I try to revisit that kiss we never finished? And would he let me? I don’t know.

I think maybe, instead of trying too hard to make things happen that might not come to fruition, I could appreciate what we have and bask in the glory of cultivating a loving friendship.

Relationships have an overwhelming tendency to shape-shift. People lean in to explore more, and sometimes they back out. If you’re lucky, you’ll stay bonded, no matter what your relationship looks or feels like. We’ve been doing that, and I’m grateful.

Tinder is only one tool to connect. It’s up to us to deepen the connection. We don’t need a dating app to know and get each other. He already knows what I want and who I am. And I know him.

We proverbially swiped right with each other a long time ago. And that feels good. I think I’ll let us simmer a little longer and enjoy being a wee bit more than friends.

As for what kind of gal I am? I’m a sip on yerba maté kind of gal. If you get what I mean, we might be the perfect match.

Related reads:

If you enjoy reading my stories and other talented authors, join the Medium Partner Program for ad-free unlimited reads at only $5/month. Click here to use my referral link and I’ll receive a percentage. You can also find me on Facebook, Twitter, and LinkedIn. Thanks for supporting the arts.