I have another digital date this weekend. Yes, I fervently wrote off online dating, but it only takes a sliver of a moment of weakness to fall back into it. It's just too easy. My sexy, self-aggrandizing mind urges that this is the way to be a cool, free-associative romantic, but I intuitively know it's pathetic -- not so much sad but deeply appealing to my emotive engines. What can I say? We can't explain everything.

I tried to come at it differently this time, though. When contacting folks I didn’t ask questions; I just made observations, as honestly as possible. If there was empathy, perhaps they'd respond. It worked overall -- there were more responses than before -- although it pretty much produced the same end result. No one wanted to take the final steps to exit the dream, except this one lady. She responded with enthusiasm, and it startled me. It made me realize how painfully drawn out all my other failed attempts to reach out were; how, even in my seemingly renewed confidence and creative approach, I was still just enacting that deflated persona who relished the user-interface blips and self-satisfying isolation, only now supported by a vague sociological theory.

For all that waste, an actual date. I’m doing my best to not burden it with this pre-history. All I want is a nice day in the sun, and eat some sandwiches in warm grass. That I know I can do; everything else is happily beyond my control.