Crafting The Dream Guy By BrownGirlDaily
Here’s how it typically works:
1) I’m an idealist, who still believes love can be found in your 30s. Or later…
2) I want to believe in the best of people and give the benefit of the doubt. No one should judge your actions as I’ve probably done the same. Well, not really, but still.
3) I am stricken with doubts. Why didn’t he call tonight? Has he met someone else? I know he said he’ll call me tomorrow, so chill out! Who do I think I am thinking every man is a troll online and off???
4) I begin to romanticize how he must be thinking of me and can’t wait to call me back to give the details on the night out even though we’ve met twice in life and truly aren’t even close to establishing a committed relationship, despite the fact we talk every day and text in between.
And just like that, I’ve fallen prey to the tragic trappings of the carefully crafted online façade posed by my hypothetical dream guy.
Oh, sweet lime, admit it: You’ve done this too — suddenly gotten those dizzy doubts over some two-dimensional, plumped up profile of a guy that you swear you ‘understood’ better than most of his girlfriends, best buds, and even some drunk dial, consigliore on stand-by when needed. In a romantic slump or not, we, gals, all want to believe.
So, here’s why I sit here today, sadly dazed and confused over the commonly misaligned, albeit all-important, sets the tone for that obscure-but-awesome “we” moment…the birthday call.
If you’ve been following my tweets, you’ll know how I spent nearly 5 months swooning over Dr. Raj (tweets 3819-4756). He was glaringly handsome, showed unparalleled chivalry, and was a progressively minded conversationalist, who kept me glued to my headset ‘til the wee hours of the morning. He was that some kind of perfect combination of smarts and looks and poise. We disclosed past dating woes, career insecurities, and even how both our Daddy’s sky-high expectations had irreversibly set into motion an ingrained relentless fear of failure. You’re Desi. You get this.
About 2 months after our initial encounter, and 1200 text messages laced between the daily calls (NY to LA), his birthday was upon us. This one date, one Sunday, one moment that will determine our flirtatious future. Call to early? I’ll look explicitly clingy. Call to late? This will signal I tried too hard to wait, but did, so that he thinks that I didn’t think about his bday, when really, we all know…I’ve been thinking about it for the 6 days prior. Call mid-day? And, interrupt his work? So, when to call?
Screw it. I took advantage of PST, and faked a work deadline, calling at 9:00 pm to wish him happy, happy birthday. Thinking I scored, I actually failed. I got the empty abyss of the voicemail. Thankfully, I got a return text saying he was out with friends. Sigh…I hope he has fun! And, now he’ll know I made the effort to call at midnight…how sweet is he? Or was he? See, he never called that night. Or, the day after. But, being the naive girly girl I am, I chalked it up to busy birthday festivities, forgave the silence, and wished him well…3 days later. That was September.
It’s now April. I had forgotten all about this seemingly insignificant call until this past weekend. See, Doc G is my local go to guy for guy stuff. Sure, he occasionally sends drunk texts and checks in every few days, but, nothing more than a friendly peck on the cheeks for us. He, like many of us, is also trying to date online. Sure, all of us have tried our deft hand at Shaadi, Match, eHarmony, DesiSpark or even TwoMangoes.
As expected, the weekend brought a smashing birthday party at his newly designed posh home. The vodka was free flowing, Gagaloo’s videos blaringly projected onto the wall, and a pre-pubescent Calvin Klein model gave us an awesome navel gazing show. And, then came midnight. By now, Doc G had more than his share of mojito-tinis, that stupid combination that only makes sense to blender-happy morons after 12:00 am. As I caught him in the corner, drunkenly canoodling some equally inebriated gori, it hit me like a Mack truck!
I happen to know Doc G has been dating online, and so wondered was there some younger version of me sitting home on this merry Saturday night stridently thinking what I had once thought? I’ll send him a bday text…I hope he’s having fun with his friends! I can’t wait to hear about his party!!!
The crafted online persona. A dangerous design of letting a girl believe who you really may to be in life, but as I saw this life from the other side, I was scrupulously saddened. Here was Doc G getting ready to bed some trampy firangi, while some clueless Desi damsel was prolly sitting at home thinking he’s partying it up with his best buds from NY.
How many times did I falsely believe what a man told me? I thought back to that one September Sunday night. I, too, thought, how nice of Dr. Raj to text me back. But, now I couldn’t help but wonder, did he, too, have a hussy hanging on his neck? And, I just never knew about it?
I don’t fault the boys. If they’re feeling a sudden gravitational desire to make that physical, one night ‘connection’ and it’s likely based on a parsing loneliness or horniness or narcissism, I get it. Boys will be boys. But, what sheared like a shrapnel was just how more often than not, the person online is so not the person in person.
In the end, I know I’ll never know the truth behind the façade a suitor presents online. This simple replay of actions demonstrated just how fragile the fallacy of online dating can be. Look, there are very few absolutes in life. But, being able to wholeheartedly trust a man online has become a halfhearted attempt today.