TINDER HAD DONE IT AGAIN

I was studying her every move. She had this sweetness that could bring light into your dull days, with little care of her farewell until you say you are okay. It did not matter if you were the one who intentionally stepped onto the needle that is now troubling you; she would tender to your wound anyway. That seemed to be the depth of her heart. It sounds odd, but trust me, I have this uncanny talent for spotting the rare gems. Still, before jumping the guns, there was a problem. I did not love her. And forget the wise saying that genuine love takes time to build in the heart. I was sure of never loving her!

The room we were in was packed to the brim. We had the super Manchester United fans looking like they were on the clock to be anxious. Whenever their team fumbled the ball, it was like a storm of curses and anger directed at the players they were supposed to support. But when the team did something special, their joy was so catchy you would think they were at the wedding party of that friend who married late into his sweet forties. I would not lie; I was chilling in a corner with my date, but my eyes kept sneaking peeks at the soccer game, past her calm eyes fixated on me. She would playfully call me out for drifting away, considering she had even put away her phone to be in the moment. Oh, and before you go pointing fingers, know that the restaurant was her pick, and I did not think they would broadcast the soccer match. It is like giving a hungry cat milk and telling her not to drink it.

Let me take you back to our online dating days on Tinder. We matched up, and she ticked all my boxes – intelligent, gorgeous, and a heart of gold. Our first chat was like a perfect puzzle piece falling into place. She had just graduated in Electrical Engineering – imagine having super-genius kids in the future! Those little brainiacs would help elevate our future lineage from the shackles of its past. I am not saying that my ancestors were stupid, but they were not like engineering-smart. Then, she was twenty-six, fitting perfectly into our two-year age gap. I am not knocking older women; most of my former relations were a bit more experienced in life. But you know how society leans toward the younger crowd. Her voice was like music when I finally got the guts to call her. I could not help but showered her with compliments, and she loved every bit. Unfortunately, fate had its script for that Saturday evening.

Come Saturday morning, as we anxiously awaited the big date, we were totally in sync – whether we had showered, eaten, or even put on our shoes. I had to stop myself from spilling the beans to my mom – you know, the news that her son had finally found his other half. I could imagine her jaw dropping over the phone. Not just her, but the whole village would be happy.

She beat me to the restaurant, something she was not very happy about. Her engineering brain expected punctuality. She had picked this spot along Thika Highway, and all I had to do was show up and foot the bill. But how would I have known of the monster traffic jam ahead due to a nasty accident? So, like the understanding girlfriend she would make, she ordered an ice cream and waited patiently. Not that I was not already giving myself a hard time; being on time is like a religion for me. But life has got its little jokes sometimes. She polished off her ice cream and marched right back to the restaurant, giving me a ring every couple of minutes while threatening to bail. So I had to remind her that her mother-in-law would be more heartbroken than I if she bailed. She laughed. I told her of the traffic madness, and she finally got it. Yep, she was a sweetheart.

So there I am, finally arriving, and she is still standing at the restaurant entrance. There were two girls, but spotting her was like recognizing your friend at a masquerade. It was not just the Tinder pics that helped; her frustration was painted all over her face. And bam, my heart sank like a lead balloon.

She was wearing this slim skirt, showing off her curves, and a white top – beyond that, my eyes failed me. She was not the same person I was looking forward to meet. Forget picture filters; they certainly cannot change every tiny bit of a person. I was heartbroken. As I drove past her to park the car, I secretly prayed it was a mix-up, and she was chilling inside. And just before anyone starts preaching about beauty being in the eye of the beholder, let me say my piece. Her Tinder photos? The moonlit goddess with perfect lashes and eyes that could hypnotize every being. Where had they gone?

I took a moment to park, battling whether she had spotted me and whether I should turn around and drive away. I gave myself a little pep talk for a few more minutes – I was raised better than that. So, with a sigh heavy enough to break a record, I decided to be brave and went over to her, receiving her phone call and giving her another dose of reassurance. In a blink, I was right there next to her.

“Hey,” I said, trying not to look so nervous. “Planning to crush my Mom’s dreams, were you?” She laughed.

“You were late. I was ready to ditch,” she teased, flashing a grin.

“Who would’ve guessed engineers are impatient creatures?” I asked, checking out her makeup, which did little to hide her spots.

“Well, the early bird doesn’t always catch the warm,” she joked, forgiving me instantly – the sweet soul.

So, like a well-raised human, I led her into the restaurant. Unfortunately, she was not the one. And my search, as painful as it was, had to continue.