First, let me tell you how excited I was to come across your profile. After days of weeding through boys looking for hookups, profiles of guys whose pictures were literally all memes, and men with only shirtless pictures of themselves, you were a breath of fresh air. Your profile seemed to hint at a goofy spirit, an open mind and a love for sports while leaving the rest of your personality to my imagination. I swiped in the direction of desire and was instantly notified of your shared attraction.
Waiting was the hardest part. I checked my phone every few hours…okay minutes, to see if you would message me. I may be a lady of the 21st century, but I still believe a man should make the first move. A few days later, I opened the app to a notification from you, and a smile spread across my face.
We talked for several weeks. From sharing small facts about ourselves, to divulging our favorite travel destinations, to small dreams for our lives, you captured my attention. You spoke of wanting to help underprivileged children and I wrote of my desire to become a motivational speaker.
As much as I loved getting to know you through messaging and emoji's, I want to say I am sorry. I’m sorry that I missed that way you must have chuckled when I seemed completely ignorant of the rules to your favorite sport. I’m sorry I didn’t see the way you may have groaned when describing all the math classes you have had to take. I’m sorry that I couldn’t see your face when you described how much you love working with kids. You cannot know how I wish I could have shared those moments with you.
I’m sorry that you didn’t get to see my face light up when you asked about what I wanted to do with my life. I’m sorry that you didn’t get to hear the way I snort-laughed at the joke you sent me. I’m sorry you didn’t get to see the sadness that colored my expression when you asked about my last relationship. I’m sorry that you didn’t see the way I fidgeted and blushed when you told me I was beautiful. While all of these are small things, they are what make up my life. They are the pieces of my heart and though you know them, you cannot know me.
Though we may meet in person one day, and we might be able to catch a glimpse into each other’s souls through our awkward, simple, imperfect reactions, we will have missed so much.
I’m not sure it’s supposed to be like this. Maybe this is why our parents and our grandparents laugh when we tell them we met someone this way. Because they understand that you can never truly begin to know someone from behind the tempered glass of your iPhone.
Maybe we will be able to make up for our lost time, but maybe I will wish I had met you organically. At the grocery store while inspecting avocados, in my favorite coffee shop or through mutual friends at a dinner party. It’s probable that our conversation will slowly burn out until one of us simply stops responding. Or maybe the romance of our story will be built not on the foundation of learning the small seemingly insignificant details about each other, but on the awkward transition from text to face interaction.
I don’t know if you would have ever noticed me if not for an app that shows only my best features. If that is so, then I am truly grateful for the opportunity to know you. I only hope that we are not too late. I hope we didn’t miss too much together.
