So I tried Match.com’s free trial period because there was no way I was gonna pay for that. When I started filling out my profile, there was a section that asked if I was “single”, “divorced”, or “separated”. I know I should have checked off “separated”, but shame made me check off “single”. I hated that this was going to stick with me now. I felt marked. Damaged goods.
I know I said I was only window shopping (Refer to my previous post: The Last Call We Had), but I couldn’t help but look over some profiles. I didn’t realize that whenever you visit someone’s profile, they see that you looked at their page.
When I woke up the next morning, I saw that I got an overwhelming response. What? Hello, ego boost!
I scanned through my spam inbox. Insults from the soon-to-be-ex-husband ensued. I’m over the insults. I’m so tired of fighting. I’m so exhausted from babying this guy. I felt less angry at him now though. After a year of being accused of cheating when I was being loyal, at least the accusations were kind of founded now. Pierre always considered himself a psychic. Now that I know him, I realize that whatever he said ended up becoming a self-fulfilling prophecy.
Anything that was in his control.. like predicting that “something big and life-changing was going to happen” when his family visited, he made sure that “something” would happen. It was his own actions that propelled me out of his life. I didn’t want to think about it.
Instead, I set my mind to checking the Match dating application. Meh. Lots of guys interested, but I wasn’t interested in anyone at all.
Well, there was one guy, Adam, but he didn’t poke me or whatever the hell you were supposed to do on this website. Oh well. If I thought he was the only hot dude on the website, there were probably loads of other ladies who thought so too. I have good taste in men *wink*.
I really don’t know how people get over their significant other the healthy way. The only way I’ve ever known for moving on from someone was by locking onto another love interest. I’ll save that one for my therapist.
(You can read my first post here: Back at Home)