I remember love the way some people remember storms. Darkness followed by light. Flashes of intuition that come and go like the wind, almost impossible to grasp. Always a low thunder simmering through the clouds – and then, nothing.
My romantic relationships seem to be as fickle as nature – hot and heavy one day, cold and distant the next. The men usually float in and out of my life like ghosts, so even after they leave, I go looking for closure by trying to untangle the roots that got me here in the first place.
These things weigh on me when I take a gamble and swipe through random pictures of strangers on the internet. I usually feel more frustrated than invigorated when I go on sites like Tinder and OkCupid – more hopeless, than hopeful.
You see, every man I’ve met online has never been entirely what they say they are. But, then again, I guess you could say the same thing for every man I’ve dated that I’ve met in person. It’s strange how the patterns of everyday human life get calculated into the algorithms on the web, acting as if they’ve been there all along. And at the end of each day, whether we realize it or not, we always have a choice. We either lose ourselves, or find a way to navigate the tides.