Page 12 of The Swiping Game
“What do you mean?”
“Are you going to message him or not?”
Well, isn’t that the million-dollar question. Out of all the men’s profiles I’ve seen on here today, this is the only one that has gotten me a little bit excited. But...
“Oh no, you don’t!” Tawny yells, pulling me from my inner thoughts. “I saw that look coming across your face. You are not going to what-if this to death.”
“Whatever do you mean?” I might be playing stupid, but that’s a straight-up lie. I was, in fact, about to what-if the hell out of it, and Tawny, who knows me better than anyone in this world, can read my face like a book.
“It means you were going through every horrible scenario you could think of to talk yourself out of messaging this guy. I love you, Tara, but if you keep doing this with every man you meet, you’re never going to move on.”
I go back to looking at James’s profile so I don’t have to look at Tawny. I don’t know when my little sister got to be so smart, but she’s right. I haven’t dated since the divorce, but that’s just as much my fault as anyone’s. Every time I meet a guy who I’m even a little interested in, I start playing this insane game of hypotheticals in my head.
What if they aren’t who they say they are?
What if I’m not who they expect?
What if they’re a serial killer?
What if they’re trying to recruit me to an MLM?
By the time the dates come around, I have so many what-ifs in my head that I eventually cancel. That’s how I got to be where I’m at today—three years post divorce and not one date to show for it.
“You’re right.” I take in a deep breath like I’m about to go to battle. “I need to take the jump.”
“That’s my sister,” Tawny says. “What are you going to message him?”
I think about it for a second, honestly unsure of what to ask. I could ask him something deep like his political beliefs or what his perfect date is, but that seems a little much for a first question. If I were Tawny, I’d ask him his sign and when the last time he had his aura cleansed was.
Instead, the perfect question hits me over the head. It can be funny or serious, and no matter the answer, I’ll know for sure whether or not this man is worth my time.
And send.
“There,” I say, putting my phone down. “I sent him an icebreaker question.”
“Eeek!” Tawny squeals. “What did you ask?”
“What’s your most controversial opinion?”
Tawny’s excitement goes from one hundred to zero in less than a second. “Why would you send that? That’s horrible.”
“It’s not,” I say, standing up and grabbing my coffee mug to take to the kitchen. “This way, if he has a horrible one that I’m not going to be compatible with, I’ll know right away. And if he has one I agree with, then I know there’s a chance for us.”
“Whatever works for you. I’m going to lie down.”
I brush off my sister’s comment and fill up a glass of water before I make my way back to the couch. I’m proud of my question. And honestly, I’m proud that I even sent anything at all. I might have had to be drunk to set up the profile, but I’m glad I did it. If I didn’t last night, then I don’t know when I would have had the courage to do so. And it’s time. It’s long past time I start living my life again. Just because I’m still strapped down by the past in the form of credit card bills doesn’t mean I need to put my entire life on hold.
Brad might still have control of me in some ways, but it’s time I take back what I can.
I make my way back to my couch, fully ready for a day of binge television, when my phone makes the ding from earlier. Not thinking anything of it, I pick up my phone, only to see the notification:
James wrote back!
I immediately sit up, my blanket flying off my body.
Holy hell, he wrote back. And quickly. Is that good? Is that bad? Do I answer right away? Do I wait? What are the rules?
I take a resolving breath. Here goes nothing.
I swipe open the app, which takes me immediately to the messaging section. And there, for my eyes to view, is the most perfect answer he could have given.
James: A hot dog is a sandwich.
I’m going to marry this man.
