I was dating a guy I met on Tinder for a few months.
We never discussed exclusivity, which was fine by me. I was over at his house one night after a couple weeks of not seeing him. After a romantic evening of making dinner together, drinking wine, and listening to records, I excused myself to use the washroom.
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Beside his toilet was a lidless garbage container, and sitting on top of the overflowing pile of trash were several very used condoms. Another time, I was involved in an attempted kidnapping. My friend set up a double date on Tinder while we were on vacation. Our dates-turned-kidnappers came to pick us up at our hotel, and instead of driving us to the agreed upon bar, they continued to drive us 30 minutes down the highway despite our objections and panic-filled shouting.
Finally, our would-be-kidnappers were kind enough to dump us on the side of the highway when we threatened to call the police.
How I Met And Ended Up Dating My Next-Door Neighbor Because Of Tinder | Thought Catalog
After managing to hitchhike home, my friend and I agreed that this experience was, simply put, the worst Tinder date ever. After these experiences, I was ready to put Tinder behind me forever… But after a few final swipes. I matched with a guy named Sergey. He seemed nice, funny, and refreshingly normal. We exchanged some entertaining pleasantries for a few days, and then I gave him my phone number with the intention that we would set a time to meet for drinks.
I had just moved into a new apartment downtown. I was so excited to live on my own, roommate free. For the first time, I could buy my own furniture and decorate my home exactly as I wanted. As I was decorating one night, my phone buzzed. It was a text message from Sergey asking what I was up to. I enthusiastically told him I had just finished decorating the living room of my new apartment.
How to date your neighbor: 8 simple rules
I followed the text with a photo of my mantel adorned with fairy lights, candles, and plants. I do live in the Empress. Is this guy watching me? Kidnapping flashbacks raced through my mind.
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I recognized the fireplace because I have the same one. I live in the Empress, too!
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If I left my cell phone at my place, I still never missed a call because I could usually hear it ring from his living room. The walls were just that thin. At first, we set some ground rules about maintaining our personal space, but those flew out the window pretty quickly. And on one sweltering Sunday afternoon, I knocked on his door to inform him that he was taking me on a day trip to a beach about an hour outside of town. We were roaring down the freeway about 15 minutes later.
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Dating my neighbor was like eating at a fast-food restaurant. Everything was quick and convenient. But after about eight months I realized that this relationship had no chance of survival. And how the cans began to give way to vodka bottles.
- Asking your Neighbor Out on a Date - Tips and Advice | Futurescopes!
- I Dated My Next Door Neighbor And Here’s What I Learned.
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We broke up, and my neighbor went to rehab a few weeks later. He moved out of our apartment complex shortly after he was discharged.
It was fun in the beginning, but it ultimately led to partner fatigue. Unlike relationships with people who live farther apart, we would also run into each other at the mailboxes, in the laundry room, and even in the parking lot on our way to work in the morning.
Especially when a relationship is in its earlier stages, too much of a good thing can be, well, too much. I kept ignoring the empty beer cans, convincing myself that one beer in the evening did not an alcoholic make — even though there was ample evidence that he was drinking way more than one beer every night. The empty vessels mixed with what I now realize was intoxicated behavior should have compelled me to bail out much sooner. There was ample room for both of us to downshift into low-grade stalking and other creepy post-breakup activities.