Dating in Lockdown
I’m not sure how, but I’ve managed to have a more prolific dating life than ever this year despite a global pandemic. Maybe there is an upside to Covid after all. With a threat of another lockdown always around the corner, every season is cuffing season.
Let’s take it month by month.
January. Just broke up with my ex, ‘Bar Bob’. Heartbroken. Was a dramatic movie-esque whirlwind romance with an equally dramatic end. Boy meets girl in bar. Boy hands girl business card. Boy and girl fall in love and then do 2 months long distance while girl travels the world having just quit her job to go and ‘find herself’. Boy is shit at communicating. Boy and girl reunited. Boy messes things up, they break up on new years eve - how romantic.
February. Feeling lonely. Valentines Day sucks. Reach out to ex for a night of feeling less lonely. Short term, a great idea. Long term, a terrible idea. Back to being lonely.
March. Time to hit the dating apps. Match with cute guy (let’s call him Lockdown Luke) just before lockdown during which I flee the big smoke for a wholesome 3 months with my sister and niece and nephew in the countryside.
April - May. Beginning of a long distance, Dickensian-esque romance (with phone calls instead of love letters and Zoom dates instead of bareback riding through fields of wheat). Very wholesome, maybe virtual dating is the way forward?
June. Move back to London. Get to meet Lockdown Luke. Things start of well, until he invites me round. His flat is a state. Dirty. Messy. Stinks of weed. He didn’t even put clean sheets on the bed. Turns out there’s a reason virtual dating works. Note to self, next time ask for a virtual tour of their flat on the first date. Onwards and upwards.
July-August. Back on the apps. Meet a new, even cuter guy. Let’s call him Hinge Harry. We have a few great dates. Things are going well. That is, until, I get carried away in the moment and declare my undying love for him. Insert face-palm emoji. He panics. Tells me he isn’t over his ex of 8 years and isn’t ready for another relationship, nor is he any good at casual flings. Erm, so what exactly are you doing on a dating app, Harry? Back to being lonely and heartbroken. Back to hours of endless horizontal thumb exercise.
September. A series of terrible decisions and car crash dates. 1. Reached out to a cute guy from way back in my uni days. Turns out there was a reason it didn’t work out back then. Some things are better left in the past. 2. Couple of dates with someone off an app. Going reasonably well, until I got the ick mid sex. To which my therapist’s response was ‘maybe let’s avoid sleeping with people until at least the third date?’ Insert second face-palm emoji. The list goes on but I’ll spare you the gory details.
October. A few dates with a friend of a friend who was genuinely lovely, really cared about me and treated me really well. Turns out there is such a thing as ‘too nice’ and decided that we were better as ‘friends’. Back to the apps. A few more dates. Turns out when you stop caring and stop looking for anything serious, you actually have more fun. And so far, my therapist would be proud. What an emotional rollercoaster of a year.