Dating
Jilted
I’m not typically the type of person that has regrets in life, or made mistakes that stayed mistakes. Every little thing we do in life has an outcome that can either make us, break us, or bring about a change in us that can set or change the path of our futures forever.
Shauna ParisPublished 3 years ago in ConfessionsManifest! Manifest! Manifest!
I worked nights, I slept late. It was summertime in Florida and it must have been the heat that woke me up. I was slippery with sweat. My window AC unit was dead. It didn’t matter. I just had the most electric connection with a woman that I had never even met. I’m not talking about sexting with someone on Tinder. This was literally the girl of my dreams.
Mike WalkerPublished 3 years ago in ConfessionsA First Date
Jack scanned the restaurant from the maître d' station, assuming he could pick her out with ease. It was his very first foray into the online dating world, and after a month of messaging, they both had their vaccines and were ready to experience the real world again.
MarcadimusPublished 3 years ago in ConfessionsA New Man named Newman
After two years of waiting and wondering whether or not he even remotely had any feelings for me, I was surprised to hear the words come out of his mouth.
Hillary HanakPublished 3 years ago in ConfessionsEmbarrassment to Engagement
It’s September 30, 2019. COVID-19 is not yet a worldwide pandemic. Restaurants are open. The days are warm, but getting shorter. Zale (that’s me) is in a long distance, polyamorous relationship with a non-binary girl in Germany. He’s on Grindr, trying to get a good hook up. Someone identifying as non-binary hits him up and asks him out to tacos - it’s a Monday night, a weird day for tacos, but he’s hungry and this person is super pretty. His non-binary girlfriend says go for it - so he does.
Zale CookPublished 3 years ago in ConfessionsMojave Rain
He promised me coffee…not Starbucks (too stuck up he said), and not Dunkin’ (I have something better). He didn’t want to meet in the silvery light of a November afternoon, sipping drinks in the front seat of his Impala convertible. And he didn’t want to take a walk at any of the beaches that beckoned from Marblehead to Revere. No, for the first date he insisted on showing me his espresso machine and promised a perfect cup of Italian roast. He sang the praises of its masterful mechanism and offered to grind the beans for my pleasure. I didn’t have the heart to tell him I preferred tea, that my mother was British and I’d grown up on endless cups of Earl Grey and Scottish Breakfast, perfectly steeped, with a spoonful of raw honey. I didn’t share that my heart rocketed out of my chest when I drank coffee. Nor did I reveal that I’d never gone to a man’s house before meeting him first publicly. And I certainly didn’t add that the last time I even went on a date with someone I truly desired was two decades ago, when I danced to Springsteen’s “Love is an angel disguised as lust,” and wore skin-tight Guess jeans secured at the ankles with a row of my mother’s safety pins.
Julia BobkoffPublished 3 years ago in Confessions“Blindly” ripped off
I am a big believer in soul mates and love at first sight, but I guess Todd* already knew that! Todd reached out to me on Facebook. At first, I was hesitant. I do not usually talk to men I do not know on social media. But Todd seemed different. Todd had suffered an accident many years ago that left him legally blind and he had a gorgeous puppy that was training to be his new service dog.
Karen StevensPublished 3 years ago in ConfessionsThe Worst Date, War
I step out of the restaurant, the chilly air breaking the warm bubble from around me. I draw in a sharp breath, hoping it calms my frayed nerves. I look down at the slowly spreading Merlot stain on my shirt, another bought of anger surges through me. Not only did I have the absolute worst date of my life, but now one of my favorite shirts is ruined. I forage through my disastrous purse for some sort of napkin or cloth, but my luck is sorely lacking tonight. I growl lightly to myself, and tightly shut my eyes, hoping to gain some semblance of sanity. My parent's disappointed faces pop into my head, cracking me further. Another tragic date for my parents to blame on my lack of… well everything. I run the events of tonight back, trying to pinpoint where I went wrong.
Gigi MadzarovicPublished 3 years ago in ConfessionsThe year of the Hoe
There was a good solid year where Tinder was my go to for meeting people. I was working 70+ hour weeks and I was lonely, drinking myself into a depression. So naturally when I’m at the bottom, I tend to dig a little deeper. And boy, did I sure dig myself into a Tinder hole.
Lauren DeePublished 3 years ago in ConfessionsThe Formality of Dance
The Formality of a Dance I’ve got to believe women invented dancing, men don’t have that kind of freedom in themselves, and formal dances like Homecoming and Proms couldn’t of come out of the mind of a guy. The fear I had was almost to much to handle, sure I was interested in females, but generally from a distance. And it started early for me, I got invited to a Homecoming my freshman year and how does a guy say no to a girl, unless of course it’s your sister, and she doesn’t really count.
Gregory Dolan DiesPublished 3 years ago in ConfessionsButterflies of Shattered Things
I love the Ocean beach in the morning. Especially that one summer a few years ago with Jake. The summer I couldn’t sleep until we left, counting down every hour until we finally made it to the airport. Landing to the long awaited white sandy beaches and the clear blue waters.
Deborah WalkerPublished 3 years ago in ConfessionsBefore the Fall
Hari had been three hours late for our first date. There had been no apology. There had been no hello, either. There was only a phone call that began “… before you start ranting at me, let me explain…” He instructed me to travel to Russell Square after making me wait so long, which I grudgingly did. When I got to the station, my phone rang. It was him. He was standing on the other side of the road, but I did not immediately see him. I saw two old men. He said the two old men were Indian, like him, and that he was the other Indian guy, implying I was race blind. The two old men were both white. He had a hang up about race that I never fully understood. When we first began talking after meeting online, he had said he wanted to talk to me on the telephone but said he hoped I didn’t mind his thick Indian accent. I said, “of course not”, while feeling very confused. If he was born in London, why would he have a thick Indian accent? When he did eventually telephone me, there was no Indian accent at all. I never mentioned it, and neither did he.
JoJoBonettoPublished 3 years ago in Confessions