Online Dating: It's Complicated

A Girl With A Phone Michal Zacharzewski

Some time ago, I dated someone for a little while. And although he pleaded a little, we parted company, and I never expected to hear from him again. So when I got home one night and found a new message in my mail box, it never occurred to me it might be from him.

But as I unsuspectingly start reading the note, I started getting a very distinct feeling that something was just not right. I checked out the message again - and also the profile - and lo and behold it was him. Oh, dear. (To put it mildly.)

I studiously ignored the first message. He’s got my mobile number and my email address. Why on earth did he bother creating a profile and paying for a membership to contact me through the site?

Ignoring the message did not turn out to have the desired effect. He wasn't giving up that easily and contacted me again, and again, and again. This time by text. After text number four, and very contrary to my better judgement, I finally responded.

Although we did not have that much in common to begin with, I eventually agreed to meet him for coffee in the City since that seemed like a decent thing to do. I couldn’t have been more wrong.

It started civilised enough, and some generic pleasantries were exchanged. He then told me he would still like to go out as friends. I politely declined, and told him I wasn't sure that was a good idea. He texted me later to ask me to think about what he said. I promised I would, and I did give it some thought. A few days later, and after very, very careful deliberation, I decided it was best for both of us to not bother, particularly since not only was it a very short-lived affair, we still didn't have much in common. I worded my response carefully so as to not upset him.

Next thing I knew, all hell broke loose. He started texting me. The first few messages were decent enough, but after that, it made East Enders look tame by comparison. The more messages I did not respond to, the worse it got.

I guess one of my friends is right when she says, “All this being friends stuff is a load of bollocks anyway.” So why on earth did I feel the need to agree to that coffee?