My animosity towards match.com has been well documented, although I never did delve into the results from my use of the service – mostly because no one gives a shit, it’s depressing, and now moot. To be as succinct as possible and recap almost a decade on and off the dating site, it boiled down to cycle of sending about four dozen emails, getting four responses, going on dates for a few weeks until the very last embers of a romantic flame were extinguished, swearing off the process for a few months, then repeating it in its entirety. This happened like, 27 times total. The actual definition of insanity, essentially.
Now that I’m nestled in the cozy confines of a relationship, I took a minute to think about the joys of walking on the grass on the other side of the fence. It is a lovely shade of green, as it turns out. There’s an occasional pile of manure over here, but that’s how it stays so green, I guess.
There are a wealth of things I’m happy to leave behind in the bachelor world : watching Valentine’s Day commercials alone on the couch, dating in general, the vague uncertainty that you will ever reproduce – but no aspect of that life will be missed less than spending painful hours on match.com.