Page 4 of Love Harder

I should know better.

But clearly, I don’t.

And that’s why I wanted to write this book because ghosting happens far too often. I cannot believe the number of people I’vespoken to whose story reflects mine. How many broken hearts are out there because of ghosting.

Shall we go back to the day it began?

It all started with a wonderful dating app.

Don’t shake your head at me. I know, I know. But it started for research purposes, and I promised myself I wouldn’t get hooked.

For those of you who aren’t familiar with dating apps, they’re all pretty much the same—window-shopping but for humans. Humans for a night or humans for a lifetime—it’s your call. Those who scroll through the endless photos of strangers are looking for someone to vibe with. Someone to talk to. Or someone to fuck.

The dating world is truly at your fingertips, and whatever you’re in the mood for can be delivered to your door. Very much like ordering junk food via Uber Eats at midnight might satisfy the cravings. It’s convenient, quick, and easy, but come morning, you’ll regret that midnight snack because you know it isn’t good for you. It leaves you feeling like crap and questioning whether you should go vegan instead.

We can bethatfussy because if someone doesn’t match your height requirement or you’re not vibing with their latest threads, then it’s a swipe left for your next potential human.

It’s that simple and shallow, I’m afraid.

For me, any man holding a fish, had smudgy photos because his camera was covered in a film of filth, or if I had to decipher who he actually was as all his photos were of him and “the boys,” then it was a no deal for me. I want simple, sanitary, and originality. None of these things are that.

I found a few interesting men who inspired me to write. I wish there were a formula. But there isn’t. I just know when I’m inspired, and when I am, I act. Most men were apprehensive about being “studied,” and I could not blame them.

However, some were interested and provided great insight. I didn’t get attached because I was there with a purpose.

There’s one thing I should mention—I am not perfect in any way, shape, or form. Who would have guessed, right? I would rather self-sabotage love than be broken by it. I wish it got easier the older you get, but for me, anyway, it hasn’t.

So this is the mindset I have whenever I meet someone new.

This is why I felt I could write a book about dating and not get attached. I wasn’t here to catch feelings. I was here to write and hoped my experiences resonated with others.

Nothing was eventful about the day I matched with him.

I didn’t wake and feel like something monumental was about to occur. And that’s when most things do. It’s the things that catch you unawares that leave a lasting impact.

Like he did.

His name?

Let’s just call him Ghost.

I was scrolling through my likes and looking for that something, something. After a while, each face kind of morphs into one, and it’s only when my spidey senses start tingling do I know. And that’s what happened with Ghost.

Instantly, I liked his vibe.

He had a nose ring. Painted black nails. Tall. Dark hair with a wave through it. Beautiful smile. Inked. Worked in the health industry. His profile wasn’t detailed, but I liked his prompts. He seemed rather insightful and funny. The more I looked at him, the more I liked him.

So I pressed the little green heart and matched with him.

When I match with someone, I usually send them a message. I know, unheard of. To actually engage instead of matching and then never talking.

Seems weird, right?

But this is more common than actually conversing with people you’ve matched with—I don’t get it, so don’t ask me why.

I said hi.

He said hi back and asked how my day was.

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