You know how it is. You’ve been there. You meet a guy online, you’ve had incredible talks writing back and forth, you feel like you are definitely compatible so you write: “we should meet”. Your heart stops and you can’t really breathe until he finally answers: “sure”. So you get all dressed up and you meet at a coffee shop. You get there ridiculously early so that there is no chance you will be late, but you don’t tell him so he won’t feel you are over eager. So you casually drink coffee and play Sudoku to pretend this is perfectly casual, it’s not like you haven’t been dating for a really long time nor that this is your only real shot at that blasted happy ending that everyone on social media seems to have. No, it’s nothing important, really. It’s just meeting a guy. It’s more likely you could be friends, and that would be fine. It’s no big deal. And he gets there, you see him before he does. He’s cuter than you expected. He finally notices you. And there it is. The look you’ve been dreading. The “she’s-not-as-pretty-as-her-pictures” look. You would recognize it anywhere. You pretend it’s just your imagination, you smile and start making small talk. But you know, it’s just a waste of time. He is not interested. And it’s so depressing to have invested so many good talking points on someone who is clearly looking for the next exit. You talk for a while, thinking maybe your great personality will change something, but it doesn’t. You can feel he is just being polite and waiting an appropriate amount of time until he can say “Well, this was nice. Talk soon.” And he leaves. And you know that was it. He will not call. And all because of your looks. It was doomed from the start. So you go home, and start your cheering up ritual. Everything is fine, you tell yourself. It’s no big deal, you tell yourself. You don’t need anyone, you tell yourself. But after cleaning all the makeup off your face, you go to bed knowing this was just another typical first date in your life, and it was silly to think it would be anything else.