An Open Letter To The Person I Matched With On Tinder
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An Open Letter To The Person I Matched With On Tinder

Love at first swipe.

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An Open Letter To The Person I Matched With On Tinder
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To my Prince or Tinderella,

I knew you are out there, my one special stranger. With every left swipe, I knew I would be getting closer to you. Hours had been spent absent-mindedly shuffling through potentials matches, through shirtless body snaps and dog filters, through pictures with frat brothers, fish, and dead deer, until you came alone. When I thought my thumb would continue the endless jerking motion to the left, I paused and scrolled through your five pictures. It was love at first swipe…

At first, I didn’t know which one was you; your first picture showed you and your frat brothers, beaming with intoxication (I hoped you were the one on the left). I later found out you were the third from the left, with a 40 in your hand and without shoes, trailing through the mud. Your numerous gym mirror selfies showed that we both had a love for lifting and being shirtless; God, we had so much in common. Honestly, what won me over was your puppy; it’s the cutest fucking thing I had ever seen. Your bio was the perfect mixture of generic fuck boi and repressed basic white girl, that I couldn’t help but send you a flirtatious, yet funny, GIF (probably from the Office) …just to show you I’m interested. After minutes of waiting, I receive the message, “wassuh girl”, from you (so smitten). We sporadically sent stale messages to each other, inquisitively asking about our favorite bands, majors, jobs, and other kinds of boring bullshit we could spew out before we politely asked to fuck each other. But we never even got to that point…you just…left.

I don’t know what happened or where I went wrong. Did I send too many GIFS? Was I boring? Did I not add you on Snapchat fast enough? Think of all the things we could have experienced: we could have sneakily sent nudes to each other on Snapchat. We could have met at a generic coffee spot where we made strained eye contact and I left halfway through my latte, because “I forgot I had to work”. We could have met at McDonald's, had chicken nuggets, and fucked in my parent’s house, in my pink and flower adorned room, covered in quilts and American Girl Dolls (sexy look for a 20-year-old). We could have had something, if only you hadn’t left me on read…

I can’t be sad; I knew how this would end, because this has happened to me before. You were my first match today, but you won't be my last. I will keep scrolling for you, my special Tinder Prince, my lovely Tinderella.

See you never,

The girl who should have swiped left

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This article has not been reviewed by Odyssey HQ and solely reflects the ideas and opinions of the creator.
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