Because I know you all are so endlessly fascinated by the developments in my life, I just wanted to reassure you that that date I gushed about led to Nowheresville, Population: Mug Cake, because Duh. 

My ideal man wouldn’t even want to go on a date anyway. He is too unobtrusive for that nonsense. In fact, he stays as far away from my life as possible. He lives on Jupiter with no Internet access. He doesn’t call or text me. He never speaks to me, never inquires about the bullshit minutia of my day or week, never laughs at my jokes. He doesn’t snore, he doesn’t always pick out the worst movies, he doesn’t insist on paying only to have his debit card denied, he doesn’t say “Let’s play it by ear” when he really means “I don’t want to do the thing you want to do,” he doesn’t make me watch sports, he doesn’t make me do anything. He never tells me to stop sitting a certain way because it’s “unflattering,” he never tells me boring stories, he never tells me lies. He has no face and is completely forgettable because he never existed. He never asks me what the word I just used means, and he never feigns interest in anything I say or do. He doesn’t get uncomfortable when I overshare. He does not appease. He is never late, he never loses or forgets his phone, and he never needs to be the center of attention. He doesn’t cheat on me. He never asks me if I’m upset because I’m on my period. He never touches anything, especially me, and he is associated with absolutely nothing. He has no role in my inner world. He doesn’t squeeze the toothpaste from the wrong end.

We are very happy apart.