I’m 31 and I’ve had this dating blog for over a decade.
This week, my singleness came to an end. Someone out there is crazy enough to want to wife me up. Poor guy.
I didn’t find him the way I thought I would. We didn’t accidentally reach for each other’s carry out orders at a local restaurant, or get tangled up in dog leashes on a busy city sidewalk. He didn’t spot me from across the room at a crowded bar. In fact, he barely even recognized me the first night we met because he didn’t know who he was meeting.
We had swiped for each other on a dating app. And that was that.
But here’s the thing.
I still believe we were meant to be.
Here’s how it happened…
An ex-boyfriend and I were trying to stay friendly; Attempting to be platonic. We went out for Thai food at our favorite neighborhood spot and muddled through stilted small talk to catch up on each other’s lives. I think we both knew it was a mistake, but in the moment we fancied ourselves to be oh so matuuure. At the end of the meal, he got up to go to the bathroom, leaving me sitting at the bar alone for a moment. A few seconds later, I felt arms circling my waist and a voice saying, “Heyyy it’s been forever…”
I turned around, startled, to see a scruffy, blue eyed stranger standing next to me. He leapt back, apologizing, and told me I looked like a friend he was supposed to be meeting. (Was it a line? Probably… but I still like to think I resembled his ‘friend’). Anyway, he apologized again, but then asked about my romantic status. “Are you on a date right now?” he pressed. I told him no, I was catching up with an ex, it was awkward, and I was looking forward to going home and watching Netflix.
“If you ever want someone to watch Netflix with…” he offered, smiling the most brilliant, white, toothy smile.
He asked for my number, and I gave it to him (I was in a ‘say yes to anything’ kind of mood that month). We began a three week fling that reminded me just what was missing in my past relationship. When he packed up his bags and left DC for the midwest a month later, I figured I’d never see him again, so I was utterly surprised when he insisted I come out for a weekend while he settled into his new life working on the Hillary campaign.
A few Fridays later, I was disembarking at the Detroit airport and tucking myself into the passenger seat of his Subaru. We immediately headed out to meet up with his new friends and colleagues at a bar downtown. The first guy to welcome us and introduce himself was clearly inebriated but he was friendly and complimentary and I found it impossible not to feel excited in his presence.
“Oh my gawwwwd” he slurred in my general direction. “You are beeeyoootiful. Let’s be friends! Can we be friendsss??”
I wasn’t sure what to make of this overly enthusiastic stranger but I nodded. “Sure,” I told him, “I can always use a couple extra friends.”
He immediately whipped out his phone, opened up his Facebook page and instructed me to type out my first and last name so he could “make us Facebook of-fish.” I accepted the request.
We hung out and partied with him the rest of the night, but I completely forgot about his drunken Facebook antics.
I didn’t even remember his name.
Back on the Apps…
A few months later, back in DC, 100% single and looking for a cuffing season buddy, I was on Hinge, swipe swipe swiping away. This was back when Hinge was the dating app that connected you only to friends of your friends on Facebook. The pool was considerably smaller and you’d run out of potentials in about eight seconds.
There was one cute guy who I debated swiping for… I liked his smile, he had an impressive swoop of Kennedy-esque hair, gorgeous ice-blue eyes, buuuut our one mutual friend was the random drunk guy I’d met in Detroit. I didn’t like not being able to check up on him with someone I considered a real friend. What if Hinge boy turned out to be a psycho murderer? Or a Trump supporter??
I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt however, and swiped my approval. And I guess you’d say…
The rest is history.
My ex-boyfriend led me to my hot DC fling, which led me to debauchery in Detroit, which led me to… the man I’m going to marry. If we hadn’t had that one Facebook friend in common, it’s possible our paths never would have crossed. It’s the old ‘sliding doors’ situation.
Of course, it’s easy to look back in retrospect and say, this is destiny, when in reality, it was a pretty typical series of life circumstances. And, I’m only rehashing the past BECAUSE things worked out for me and my current beau.
So. Not to get all preachy and holier than thou, but to me, this shows that anyone can lead you to the person you’re supposed to be with. You never know who’s going to play a pivotal role in your life. Say yes to invitations and just book the flight you can barely afford because it might just change the entire course of your life.
Where would I be today if I’d been too tired to get Thai food with my ex? What if I’d laughed at the idea of booking a last minute trip to Michigan? What if my phone had died before I accepted that Facebook friend request? What if, what if, what if.
I’m done with what ifs. And I think I’m done here.