I guess I’m going to just dive right in with this one when I say times are hard for a single woman in 2018. But I digress…

I’ve spent the past year of my life being alone; really and truly, alone. Most of my adult life has been wrapped up in an identity of being someone’s other half, but 2017 was the year that I chose to be alone, to date casually, and to focus on my life and the future I want for myself.

It was one of the most trying years of my existence and simultaneously the year that I embraced who I was entirely. The most refreshing thing about growing into your own is the subtle realization that you are everything you will ever need. This concept, alone, was monumental for me.

Once you’ve succumbed to your newly-empowered mentality, it is then when you feel ready to get back out there and, perhaps even, let your guard back down on someone you feel may be worthy of your time. Because in this change, you realize how valuable your time really is, and how giving it to the wrong person can undo months of work that you’ve just invested into every fiber of your being.

And then comes internet dating.

How else is a single parent with a scarce opportunity of crossing paths in an adult setting with other humans supposed to find a date? It seems so simple; create an account, write a few witty lines about how you’re into pancakes and against the gender inequality agenda, and begin to swipe your way into your next enthralling conversation (that may even lead to some flirty sexting if you’re really lucky).

I went on dates that turned into hangovers and regret or ended with awkward goodbye hugs and the inner promise of never speaking again. Internet dating is all over the spectrum and can take you places you didn’t expect to go.

Then it happened.

I connected with someone and was completely excited by our conversations. But from my experience, the old saying remains true: If it seems too good to be true, it probably is. After only 13 hours of knowing each other existed in this world, I received a text the following day that I had flowers waiting on me at the local florist and to pick them up on my lunch break. We lived a few hours away, so the fact that I had to put a little work in to receive this gift made sense.

Although, the note on the flowers set off a tiny, red flag. “Dearest Samantha, Far now but near soon”. OK, guy, I just began texting yesterday. I kind of immediately lost a bit of that initial interest that I had so quickly gained by our conversation. The wit that this guy had was on par with my level of communicating and I couldn’t help but feel smitten almost instantly.

But the next-day flowers along with the note seemed a little hasty. Still, I continued to carry on conversations with him over the next few months. Only now, I was much more reserved in my banter. It was palpable, I’m sure, but it was how I felt most comfortable in moving forward. He wanted to arrange meeting up multiple times over the next few months, but each time I got right up the ledge to make the plunge, I backed out. He met my disdain with grace each time and that slowly made me feel better about the idea.

Eventually, and as luck would have it, I found myself in an opportunity of a lifetime that also planted me directly in his town (and within walking distance from his home to my hotel) for an entire week. If I was going to see him in person, this was absolutely the time to do so.

We shared some really wonderful moments together that week and I felt it happen—I felt my guard let down completely. Once it was time for me to leave, we kissed goodbye and exchanged some reassuring texts of continuing whatever had begun to bloom that week.

Can you guess what happens from here? It’s the same story every single time in my experience. One week in, and the communication shifts. It’s not subtle either, it’s a cosmically-forced shift that is undeniable and unexplainable. I did my best to overlook it, but I settled into the thought-process that if I’m already having these feelings, I should probably just trust my gut and let it die. Quickly. Painlessly. Without a second thought.

I curated a text to him explaining my standpoint and hoped that it would be well-received. Friendship is fine, and I’m a firm believer of walking away from a situation with one if you can. I waited a while without a word from him, assuming he was trying to come up with a calculated and pleasant response of how that week was wonderful or something Nicholas Spark’s-esque about our “summer beneath the trees.”

Why do I give people the benefit of the doubt, always?

What I was met with was….silence. Oh, and a firm block from every social media and messaging platform that we had connected on. No response. Nothing. And just like that, another ghost of my existence was formed.

This is why dating is hard, but internet dating has created a space for an entirely new level of weird.