The Manifesto

I called it the “____Manifesto,” and the blank line was his name. Which, in hindsight, was probably the wrong descriptor when hoping to appear stable–and sane.

OK, let me explain. I wanted wanted to start off with humor and then pivot immediately to baring my soul. It was done spontaneously and that’s normally not my style. 

BUT, I’m getting way ahead of myself, so let’s start from the beginning. 

When I finished the dating blog I was completely burned out. I had been on a roller coaster of dates for a year and desperately needed a break. I took myself offline and figured I’d go old school dating for a spell. I think I went on two or three dates in that year, post blog. I’d been on over 100 the previous 365. 

Once I was two years beyond the blog, I finally got back online. I joined Bumble and Tinder and a year later, Mark showed up on Bumble. I try to avoid dating writers because overall they’re fucking weird. OK, not ALL men who write are wacky, but many I met through classes or workshops were as unpredictable as a sprayed cockroach. But, there was something about his two word profile that piqued my interest. 

Writer. Gentleman. 

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