OK, I failed! I have been a member at Match for 6 months, but I have not been a success according to their standards. I fall into that subpar group of folks who have not met the love of their lives within six months.
I called yesterday to take advantage of the six month guarantee… Unfortunately, I did not read clearly, because when I signed up, I was pretty sure that this meant that I was to get a refund. Well, not so much…. I called Match.com to find out that I was instead going to be interrogated by a Match Agent about my experiences at Match…. What have my dates been like? Have I been following up with people who contact me? Was I willing to expand my search parameters? Well, nope, not really. I am not really interested in meeting someone who lives an hour away; it just is not convenient. Maybe I am too sensitive, but there was an implied element of blame because of my lack of success.
Frustrated by the direction of the call, and trying to end this before there was some suggestion that there was something wrong with my pictures, I asked what the Six Month Guarantee means. Apparently, the 6 month guarantee actually refers to 6 months of free time. So, regrettably, I told her that she could go ahead and add my free months to my dating profile.
So, as I planned to say good-bye, and release myself from the habit of checking to see who visited my profile, and as I planned the great novels I would write with the wasted time, I asked myself a question. Would I miss it??? I had planned to be free from the daily emails received… and the flirts, and the suggested matches. I had planned to refocus any of that wasted time on my job search, and on my family ( and the Pulitzer, of course )
To be honest, as I always am, I did feel a twinge of sadness at the loss of hope. Each day that I had the possibility of visiting the site, held the hope that that was going to be the day… it would be the day that I meet HIM. Making that phone call to Match, that sadness came to light, and it is with my new “free” six months, I forge ahead with hope, as I start ANEW.
OK, more likely, I slowly push ahead, with sarcasm, and keep my hopes hidden. I guess it is like the lottery that I keep complaining about. I don’t actually play, so it doesn’t make a lot of sense that I complain that I did not win.