Part of the reason why I opt for online dating is because I’m battling chronic boredom. Graduating college was cool and everything, but it leaves lots of time – free time – in my schedule. During the holidays, I tinkered with Tinder and even dusted the cobwebs off of my 2-year-old Plenty of Fish profile, making sure to avoid OkCupid at all costs. It’s not a permanent goodbye, but I’ve already met enough douchebags on there.
Surprisingly, Plenty of Fish provided most of my entertainment for the few days that I had it. I connected with this guy, Gregory, who was a security guard-slash-criminal justice student in Long Island. He was meh – nice enough, funny enough and cool enough – but I really wasn’t all that interested in taking the conversation offline. Gregory was polite enough to ask for my number, though, so I gave it to him. He called me and we chatted for about 10 minutes before I had to go. I didn’t think much of the conversation. He was way more enthusiastic about it than I was. I know when I’m into someone and I just wasn’t that into him. We started texting shortly afterwards and he asked me the inevitable – what are you looking for? I gave him an honest answer, explaining that while I wasn’t ready for a boyfriend, someone to hang out with and talk to would be nice. He said he was looking for the same thing and asked me out on a date. Just like that. We hadn’t even known each other for 24 hours! I know that the point of a date is to get to know someone, but things were moving too fast…and I told him so.
The conversation ended shortly after that. Gregory texted me the next day with the classic trifecta of boring texts – good morning, how are you and what are you doing – and I answered with equally vanilla responses and never heard from him again. It took me about a day to realize that it was me who ended the convo and not him…his questions probably intended to be open-ended, and I could’ve easily carried the talk from there. But I didn’t. I was busy and didn’t think to hit him up the next day. I felt bad…but I felt worse about how relieved I was. It’s not like I ghosted him – I didn’t purposely fall off the face of the earth after a few weeks or even mid-convo. The flame died out and I didn’t start it back up. Though I’ve vocalized how much I hate the without a trace-ass guys that I’ve dealt with for years now, I kind of see why they do it.
There’s no easy way to say goodbye. More than likely, it’s going to be uncomfortable for both parties. But as someone who’s usually broken up with, I’m trying to find a way to do it with class. I know that I’d prefer for someone to tell me that they’re not feeling me that much anymore rather than them forward my calls to voicemail or ignore my iMessages. But some people avoid that conversation because it might be too heavy for two people who just connected. According to the Internets, it’s not me, it’s you is reserved for longer-standing relationships – or at least the couples who’ve been on a few dates. The Slow Fade, brilliantly coined by xo Jane (Ahem! Editor’s note), isn’t favorable but becoming acceptable amongst our crowd. It’s effective in avoiding confrontation and awkwardness, but it’s unfair and leaves unanswered questions. I don’t know if it’s worth it to work up the nerve to tell Gregory that I’m not feeling him – it’s been too long. But next time, I’ll remember how much being faded sucks and handle things with care. It’s good crush karma.
CollegeCandy, how do you end things with someone you’re not feeling?
When she’s not watching for Blue Ivy sightings or doing some serious Facebook creeping, Khalea moonlights as a print journalism major at the REAL HU, Howard University. Follow her on Twitter at @letsbeKHAlear, or feel free to Twatch. Whatever works for you.