Breaking Up With Love.

My goodness, it's been absolutely forever. I've had a busy summer, hanging with my friends, their kids and soaking up rays either at my house in Litchfield or right here at the beaches of Charleston. And I've noticed that the saying rings true, about happiness being a butterfly that will sit on your shoulder when you aren't chasing it.

I've been doing some thinking about my ridiculous romantic track record. I've been single for three and some change years now -- not just unmarried or lacking a live-in boyfriend but SINGLE. No flings, no plus-ones to call up for a movie night -- nothing. Yes, I tried Tinder for a bit and it didn't work. Yes, I tried to fan a few acquaintances into a flame; that didn't work either.

For a while, it saddened me. After all, I've been obsessed with love since I first took notice of it appearing in works of literature, classrooms and family sitcoms. I realized it wasn't the kind of love that lasted forever, but it was a taste -- enough of a taste to make me want it.

Though I didn't date as a teenager (I was entirely too awkward) I daydreamed about love constantly, even wrote entire screenplays about my crush during World History class. And, once I got to college and did start dating, I found myself engrossed in a series of relationships basically lasting from approximately age 20 until age 32. Sure, not all of those guys were serious boyfriends, but I always had an object of affection. I always had a goal pertaining to love.

Now, I don't. There's nobody I'm crushing on, nobody I'm engaged to, nobody I'm sleeping with, nobody I'm casually dating in hopes to watch it go further. I've reached the age when everyone has someone, usually a spouse, yet I'm the most alone I've been since adolescence. It's pretty ironic I guess. Here's the exciting thing though: I've finally accepted it.

It sort of happened like this. I was walking a bag of garbage to the dumpster at my condo complex recently (Don't you love symbolism?) and realized I've finally broken up with love as an idea. It took me a good few years. I'd been depressed, I realized, when I ended my last relationship at age 32. After more than a decade of having some dude at my side, it was jarring for me. Now, not only have I gotten used to no ball-and-chain, I've discovered I prefer it!

There are a few contributing factors to this. One: I watch other people in relationships and marriages and they seem sorta annoyed with their partners a good chunk of the time. No offense. Two: I'm a social butterfly and I'm selfish. How did I not realize it sooner? Three: I can redevelop my own idea of love now, because I've let the old one go.

I'm well aware that this might mean I stay alone for even longer; it could take time to rewrite the idea of love from scratch. But I think it'll be worth it, because the old idea I had was not working. Plus, I have other kinds of love that aren't the romantic kind. Sure, sometimes I still feel lonely. But just like other mood swings I'm prone to, it's unrelated to reality.

Breaking up with my original idea about love was hard, no doubt about it. But I feel so much happier than I did a year ago. Sometimes the baggage that holds us down isn't material or relational -- it's ideological.

Good thing it's in the dumpster now.

Tinder is the Night.

Don't laugh at me. Lord knows I've blogged before about how I can't stand dating websites -- and I've gone and joined the silliest one out there.

That's right; I've joined TINDER.

Before you wrinkle your noses and declare Tinder to be nothing but a meat market, hear this! I actually like it. I mean, it's a lot of fun, all the swiping right and finding out that someone else ALSO swiped right. Still, that doesn't mean there aren't any pitfalls.

Here's a short list of informative tidbits that I thought might be useful to others who are single and considering joining Tinder. Note that I just joined yesterday. Note, too, that I haven't been on any actual dates yet, but I have gotten asked out a total of three times and scored a phone number.

1. The ego boost can be significant. Simply put up a few decent pictures of yourself and collect the compliments. But beware -- Tinder is notoriously shallow and you'll be disappointed in yourself for swiping left when a guy has less than stellar teeth, a large nose, weird hair or the like. Since Tinder doesn't really do the whole extensive bio thing (bios tend to be short; all mine says is "wordsmith, social butterfly") people weed through the list based on looks. If you're uncomfortable with that idea, it might give you pause.

2. If you're anything like me and you simply like meeting new people to have a text-a-thon with, you'll adore Tinder and become an immediate convert. Heck, I've already alerted my ex-roommate Dana to the idea that she should join!! I'm a WITNESS, y'all.

3. Unless your fellow single gals are on Tinder too (shout-outs to my one friend, who shall remain anonymous, for suggesting it to me) they are going to tell you that it's all about sex, because that's what the media and everyone else says it's about. And my friends, in particular, are concerned because, well, we all know what an asexual diva I can be. Plus, some of them have their own sordid stories and are now anti-Tinder. Still, it's like any other brand of romantic bitterness; you have to learn from your own mistakes, not your BFF's mishaps. I've reassured my gal posse that I'm just having fun. It's like my mom's favorite song from the 1980s by Adam Ant -- "Desperate but Not Serious."

4. Like other apps, Tinder can take up a lot of time. The swipe game is like crack, and sometimes you don't even realize that you've swiped through every dang body in your area already. Then, once you have about a billion matches, you're stuck answering everyone. I made the mistake of sending messages to about six dudes yesterday -- and then about six more dudes messaged me. Right now I'm talking to more guys than I know what to do with, and they're all asking me the same "get to know you" questions. If I had a dollar for every time I've typed "I'm the editor of Mount Pleasant Magazine! I'm from Florence! I'm a writer!" in the last 24 hours, I'd probably be able to take the rest of the holiday season off from work.

5. As I've mentioned before, online dating is like renting an apartment in Charleston. If you don't answer these dudes right away, they're likely to swipe right on some other babe and schedule a lunch date for that very instant, leaving you in the dust of a forgotten conversation thread. Last night, for example, a dude asked me to meet him out somewhere, after I told him two seconds before that I'd just washed my face. I replied that I normally cleanse my face "in order to go to bed, not to put makeup back on and go hooch it up somewhere." He was mildly amused by my wit, but, as it is with most men, his need for booty was stronger than his need for a clever woman.

6. Since bios are not really important - or are nonexistent - on Tinder, I've been trying to be as real and as interesting as possible in my conversations with various dudes. I told one guy I liked his chicken wing picture, for example. I told another guy that I'm "an idealist with just the right amount of snark." I don't want people thinking I'm just another girl they swiped right on, ya know? I mean, they don't know WHO they're dealing with until they actually go out with me ...but I'll save those stories for another post.

So stay tuned, everyone. I think this is going to be fairly interesting. And if it all blows up in my face and I end up hating Tinder, I hope I don't rain on another newbie's parade.