TRUE LIFE STORY ABOUT DATING APPS & Guys not controlling their feelings I broke up with my long-term boyfriend five months ago. It was mutual, but to accept that he was no longer part of my life wasn't easy. I was sad but wanted to move on from the “breakup” feeling soon... One day, after spending endless “work-less” hours sitting at the office desk, I noticed that two of my female colleagues were giggling and blushing for several hours. "Hey, do you guys believe in social media relationships?” I asked. “Yeah, it’s a nice way to meet guys and it makes your dating game strong,” one of the girls replied. “I’ve got a date set. He looks amazing, has abs and looks like he’s a total gym freak. Just imagine how amazing and strong he’d be in bed,” another interrupted. I Was Curious About Online Dating Apps Smiling sheepishly, I went back to my laptop screen. I was curious; I just had to see what the big deal was. It sounded intriguing to meet guys virtually, making me feel like I could control the situation: who I liked, who I didn’t when to meet, and when not to. Even though I thought the app was just another waste of time like, I was still lured into downloading one. After setting up my profile and bio, I finally settled down and began swiping—left swipe, right swipe. That’s all it was. I didn’t get the point of the app, but it felt like a game. I’d be swiping in the cab, in restaurants, and late at night before sleeping. I began talking to my matches; 90 percent of them were either boring or creepy. Only one guy I was talking to seemed pretty cool. He had a start-up, he was nice; had a beard (oh! My weakness), and seemed decent. His name was Fred. We exchanged numbers and actually talked a lot on the first day. He wanted to meet, but I had a rule: ‘Not to go on a date before you have at least talked for a week’. He was sweet enough to be patient and he actually waited for a week. We both hit it off extremely well. I did know we hardly had anything in common. Our personalities were different, our choices, our career beliefs – there were many red flags which I should have counted, but I didn’t and agreed to meet Fred We didn’t seem to have much in common It was Sunday evening and I went to meet him in a cosy little café, situated on a busy street. “The way you look when a person talks, it’s amazing. It makes the person feel that you are listening,” he said. I blushed a little, “Oh! I’m a good listener.” It was good and at the end of it, we hugged goodbye. “I had a good time meeting you,” he texted while I was on my way to home. “Me too,” I replied back. “Really? It didn’t feel like it,” He replied back. “I just don’t talk much, I am more of a listener. Plus, I was just nervous,” I texted back. “I understand,” he said. Next week, he went missing. Red flag number one. Every time I texted him, he was present with the most common excuse, “Oh! I was busy, had meetings.” I stopped texting him. Three days later, his texts started flowing back. “Hey, let’s meet in the evening,” he texted. “Sure,” (I was free that evening and thought, ‘Let’s give him another chance. Maybe I’m overthinking.’) He sent me the location of his apartment with the house number. Red flag number two. “Oh, your neighbours… I think meeting at your house is not really a great idea,” I texted him back. “I don’t have neighbours on my floor,” he said. “It’s chill, you come over,” he added. I booked a cab and reached his apartment. In the elevator, I was nervous with constant hammering of, ‘Why am I doing this, why am I going to this guy’s house”, but curiosity overpowered my little feeble voice. Couple sitting in the restaurant We didn’t seem to have much in common, what about if he Began to Get Physical.... I got out of the elevator and saw him standing outside his house. I smiled and he hugged me. He was trying to get closer to me, touching my neck and hugging me repeatedly, and then one of our hugs led to kissing. I wanted to kiss him; I knew a kiss would happen. But I only wanted to kiss him. While he was kissing me, he was caressing my waist, inner thighs, and my butt. I was trying to get hold of his hands, but he was too adamant about it. He began to get physical “Do you wanna cuddle,” he asked. “Yes.” (Because I really wanted to cuddle. Just cuddle.) But he started kissing me, hard. Sliding my skirt a little up, touching my boobs. He opened his shirt and wanted me to kiss his chest. “I think we should stop. We should take things slow,” I said, “Maybe I should leave.” But nothing worked. I felt too weak to oppose him. I just wanted to get it over. “We are not going to have sex, trust me,” and that was the moment he unzipped his pants and wanted me to hold his thing. He looked at me and said, “Please.” “We should not have sex,” I said repeatedly. “Please,” he said and put on a condom on his thing. When he was done, I dressed up and left. I felt manipulated and weak. Sex and consent; both lie in a grey area. Just because I went to his apartment and wanted to kiss him, doesn’t mean I was ready to have sex with him. I wish he knew that. ©️rudatwits