Things you buy through our links may earn Vox Media a commission. This week, a photojournalist flirting with a taken hot nerd: female, 31, Nolita, single, straight. I am up and getting dressed for a holiday brunch. First to arrive at brunch. Host seems bummed I only brought flowers. What did she expect? A second after her, a tall hot nerd arrives. I immediately like his face. I know. We walk out together and share small talk.
He says he lives with his girlfriend. Small stab in the gut. We walk by a bar we both happen to love. They will. HN and I are wasted. He kisses with an abundance of tongue β¦ beer-flavored tongue. I am okay with it. I am heading home β¦ alone. Lovely day! There are photos with him and the girlfriend.
She is very pretty. HN texts. I knew he would. She works in HR. Need I go on? We start texting feverishly. Text text text text text with nerdboy. I decide to see an early afternoon movie by myself.
During my very brutal divorce, I would see movies alone all the time. I take inventory of the fact that I am seeing a movie alone while in a happy, healthy place.
My heart is beating calmly. Life is good. Textathon with HN continues. I have no guilt about the girlfriend situation. Lots of banter about film, TV binges, thoughts on life in general. It is really nice to communicate with a smart guy who has a lot to share with the world. My ex had a big dick and small brain β which bought him an extra year in our toxic marriage. I sit at a nice wine bar alone and order an expensive glass of red. I do a little online swiping as the wine enters my bloodstream.
