The eternal subjunctive
Once upon a time, there was a date that never materialized. Who doesn’t know him? The eternal comforter.
He cajoles, he becomes inventive, he disappears. Common procedure. My friends had often warned me about men who were incredibly committed – online. The real date regularly failed to materialize. An unfounded hubris let me know that this would never happen to me.
Stefan, 32, had an inviting profile. No strange preferences, no outrageously high standards. He seemed like himself. Sincere. A rarity. I was tired of all the elevator-mirror selfies, the posers pretending to understand women, the mountain climbers grabbing life by the balls and not to forget the topless models rising straight out of the water of a distant land à la Hally Berry.
“Unfortunately, tomorrow doesn’t suit me after all. Would you have time another time? My father is in hospital and I have to bring him some things.”
“I understand,” I replied. And that’s what I did. After a week, I tried again.
“Yes, he’s feeling much better, thank you. Tuesday would be perfect! I’m really looking forward to it!” I got back. The note of exuberance made up for the previous rejection. On the Tuesday in question, another small 1 appeared in my inbox.
“SSSSSSOOOORRRYYY! I’ve completely forgotten about today. My boss pushed something else into me. Could you also come on Saturday? Pizza? Get on me!”
I was starting to feel stupid. The more often he canceled, the more concrete his proposals for compensation became. A strange and frustrating dynamic. Keeping warm for advanced users. At the same time, I continued to be active, but nothing came of it. Perhaps I had already unconsciously bet on Stefan and was therefore not open. I agreed and made a disguised joking remark that he would have to come up with something to impress me.
“Perfect! I’ll be there! Just made a reservation! Can’t wait!” were Stefan’s last words. At least as far as I was concerned.
On Saturday I wanted to ask him for the address of the restaurant.
Our chat history was gone. Poof! Just like that. Google shed some light on the matter:
If a message history you have with someone mysteriously disappears, this is unfortunately a sign that you have been blocked.
After two days, I ticked the matter off. A week later, I woke up from a deep sleep: Had I just imagined Stefan, 32?
Writing is her hobby: Sybille Statz from Cologne loves great romances just as much as she loves horror films, cats and 90s series. You can read more of her work in her two short novels “Matches for Real – Das Dating-Desaster” and “After Sunset – Korallenrot” and here.
What does our author Sybille Statz experience when dating? Here you can find the other episodes to read, marvel at and smile about.
Text: Sybille Statz
