MATCH

I don’t know. I guess I thought it would make me feel better about myself in the end. Maybe I just thought about the story. Or I assumed it wouldn’t hurt.

It did.

And now I’m nursing a faux broken heart from a pseudo date.

No, it wasn’t the dude in the skirt. It was the one in the hummer. Yeah, the freakin’ hummer.

So what’s a girl to do? I can’t live like this. I can’t go on without any hope or prospects. I don’t want to change. There are a billion people out there. Surely I’ll find what I’m looking for.

And is it too much to ask that he be Muslim?

And maybe educated?

And speak English?

Okay, so now I’m being stupid. Now I feel like I am whining. I am, but it’s okay. I mean, I didn’t love him. How could I love him? I only met him once and the games were for fun. So why does it hurt?

I feel a bit numb. I feel like my head is spinning and I am not sure what to do. Well, I know what I want to do. I also know what I have to do.

“I’m sorry. I can’t go out with you because I like you. And you’re not Muslim. And I don’t play games. I’m really sorry.”

For me, I am sorry.