Day 89 of 100 Indian Tinder Tales
P from #America shares her tale.
“”I’m a graduate student in an Umreekan univ and had never dated a desi on campus. I tend to stay away from the desi boys who move in packs, all live together and seemingly socialize only with other desis — some early negative experiences with patriarchal, misogynist, homophobic, etc. Bengali boys had made me super-wary of the breed. I swiped right on M by accident and we matched. I was about to unmatch when he messaged and made me laugh with a ridiculous GoT avocado meme and so I started talking to him instead. Several funny messages back and forth and I decided to meet him.
The first date was six straight hours of wide-ranging, utterly engrossing conversation and I figured this dude had potential, although we were VERY different people. He’s a Tam-Brahm, I’m Bengali, he’s 23 and I’m 32, he is studying to be a computer engineer and I am wrapping up my literature PhD. Despite misgivings, I asked him out on a second date, which was one of the best I’ve ever had. I took him to a party, introduced him to my friends, and came back with him to my place to smoke up. We hadn’t talked about sex or hooking up, and he was a gentleman. When he finally made a tentative move on me, I was so stoned I initially didn’t even realize it *was* a move! A bunch of giggles later, I said yes, and that’s when he told me he was a virgin. Hadn’t even kissed a girl before.
Well. That came as a shock initially, but he was eager and imaginative, and as we found out, our chemistry was off the charts. I’ve been with my share of people, but M was easily one of the best in terms of mind-blowing sex and more than that, a sweet kind of intimacy. Lying in his arms watching torrential rains outside and talking all night—I still get goosebumps at the memory.
In a few short weeks, we knew each other’s bodies inside and out, did things in bed and outside it (My first experience in a public place, ahem). We were getting closer and closer without even realizing it. We didn’t discuss emotions, though—the idea was that we were dating, but not yet in a relationship. But it was tender and wonderful and exciting as all the hells.
I guess it was too good to last. Five weeks in, we had our first big fight over a Whatsapp chat misunderstanding—two days of awfulness, that I wanted out of the way, and so we talked some more. That’s when he told me he had decided to end it, try to be “just friends” instead. I had hurt him, and he didn’t know how to move past it. But more importantly, the mindfuck he experienced during/after the fight led him to realize he was falling for me big-time. And that was a dealbreaker for him. I’m a non-vegetarian atheist Bengali woman who’s 9 years older than him—his Tam-Brahm self couldn’t conceive dating me seriously long-term, with marriage and babies at the end of it, and so he’d rather not embark on it at all. Screw emotions—it had to be all or nothing.
I was aghast, frankly. Yeah, I have no interest in marriage or babies, but he is 23. T-w-e-n-t-y T-h-r-e-e. Why was he already thinking along such concrete lines, and why would he throw away a year’s happiness (at least) for this rigid conception of a settled future? Could you not have affection and connection and yes, maybe even love, for its own sake? Was it really so impossible to be with someone without a roadmap that society had etched out beforehand, before you had even had a chance to decide what you wanted your life to look like? And if it was so impossible, what were you doing on Tinder?
I guess it was impossible though, for him at least. So we broke up.
And now we’re trying to figure out how we can be “just friends,” when all this time, we had been friends, but also so much more. I’m telling myself it’s for the best, that our attitudes towards life and living are ultimately incompatible. But I keep wishing it had not ended so unexpectedly, so abruptly. More fool me—turns out that I’m a sucker for possibilities, after all.”
Induviduality 