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A post shared by Waylon Lewis (@waylonlewis)

“Maybe it’s tacky to be open in this way, but dating apps seem to be a tidal wave of fake bots trying to get me on telegram or WhatsApp or photoshopped pouty lips n’filters. Im looking for something simple, genuine, real. I would like to have children sooner than later, full disclosure. I don’t have drug habits or whatever. I work hard, am fun, can be boring and love to cuddle and travel both. I’m eco-inspired and don’t love plastic and do love animals. I’m a good communicator and no longer work wayyyy tooooo much. I like bike ?. I might move to Canada. I’m a romantic but I detest Hallmarky movies. My happy place is the farmers market or a big cocktail party or cozy at home or hot springs or on my bicycle. I don’t love lots of tats or chemically make up or perfume. I appreciate simple and active and humor when things go wrong and accountability and I’ll offer those too. I need a date for the Nutcracker.” See the post and kind comments, here.

The other day, I casually posted about finally being ready to date on an Instagram story. I didn’t think much about it—I am, after all, me, the first to know, just as you are the first to know where you’re at.

And so I knew I was (mostly) ready and healed and would like to connect with someone meaningful. Later that day, I took that story and made it into a post on Facebook, and Instagram. The comments, particularly on Insta, started to roll in. It turned into A Thing. I got hundreds of kind, supportive comments. I got…lots of DMs (blush emoji).

And yet, and now, this Sunday, I go to one of my favorite dates all year, and I’m alone. This is what being an adult is all about: making friends with loss, and love, and love lost, and our sweet sad cheerful hearts.

I bought two tickets to the Nutcracker, and I haven’t a date in the world.

So if you saw that post, and all the comments and love (thank you, all who did encourage, instead of snark or pre-judge from afar), remember: social media is still mostly surface. If you’re doing the hard work of making friends with yourself, and perhaps in a relationship, you’re doing the real work. And sometimes it’s fun and sexy and sometimes it’s hard, and hopefully still worthwhile.