I am an advocate for healthy relationships. Don’t let my all-too-often cynicism make you skeptical of my allegiance to love. Or romance. Or that [sometimes] painful, but ultimately raw intimacy that only a few of us find in our life time. I believe in good people and I hold constant faith in a humanity that has let me down time and time again. I always keep hold of it, because we only allow opportunity to cease when we stop believing in it’s ability to exist.

Somewhere between wanting to fall in love myself, and watching everyone else fall in love around me, I found a bit of a knack for drawing from people, their truths. And even when they don’t want to give it to me, I sense their lies deep within my core. One small reminder that I’m not the kind of girl who’s eyes are easily covered with wool and people just kind of share their skeletons before either of us know what’s happening.

“I’m a heroin addict. I want to cheat on my girlfriend. I hate my wife.

The only thing that feels good is this. New interaction.”

I’ve been told I feel comfortable. I assume people mean that they lack a filter in my presence and it feels….well, OK. I want every time I hear this to be special, because it’s nice to be able to console another human being with just your presence. It’s even nicer to change people’s lives by simply lending an ear. The truth is, being comfortable to strangers has found a way of making me less-than comfortable more often than not and holding too many secrets is a sure fire way to make yourself miserable; or so I’ve learned.

Earlier this year, I lent an ear. And then I lent some advice. And then I totally used all of the intel I received against the person who I made comfortable enough to give it to me. But, frankly…he had been cheating on his girlfriend for too long, and fuck you, girl power. I’m not telling this story because I want to rat myself out for being a rat. I want to share this story because it went from a tiny step to clear my conscious, to one of the bravest and most important things I could have ever done for a stranger.

We swiped right on each other. His profile suggested he had been single long enough to be serious about a real connection. A handful of messages back and forth lead to the exchange of numbers and then almost immediately a phone call. He told me he lived with his friend, that he couldn’t wait for me to meet his dog, and that he had an ex who was ‘crazy’. As progression would go, I found his facebook profile a few days into our dialogue and there she was. A girlfriend of a lot of years.

It’s happened to me a few times, but usually when I call a man out for his blatant display of a relationship on social media he back pedals and apologizes for wasting my time, then ghosts like a true millennial. This one was different. He spent hours, days, weeks telling me sob stories about how he was being emotionally abused by this woman he barely sees anymore.

Fast forward to a month later when my gut tells me to reach out to the girl in the photos labeled ‘in a relationship with: the tool on tinder’. I went into it thinking I’d be a fool to think she would even believe me. Broken relationships are always filled with denial. I would know, I frequent that step of the grieving process often. She didn’t believe me at first; shocker. I provided her with months of back and forth conversations that otherwise deemed all of his stories a lie…down to the revelation that his roommate he spoke so frequently of…was in fact…her.

Man did that suck. Relaying to a woman who knew her relationship was rocky, that it was even rockier on the outskirts. And that someone knew only half truths about the woman she was because her sociopathic boyfriend confided in a complete stranger about their relationship, seemingly using the foundation of his twisted story to fuel compassion. He lied about the way she treated him. About the seriousness of their status. But most importantly he lied about being a victim to someone who truly played the part, every god damn day.

This story has a happy ending folks…cause when she found out, she eventually left him. It took her a couple months, as most many-year relationships do, but it finally happened. And despite how horrible it sounds to break two people up, I’m so grateful I was given the opportunity to do so, and did it without fear of repercussion.

This shit doesn’t fly with me anymore kids. I can smell a liar from across our cell signals these days. Don’t play me for a fool, or I’m gonna make your current girlfriend my more current best friend and we’re gonna roast the fuck out of your dick pics in the comfort of our own single-hood. It’s been a while since I’ve felt like a superhero, but if being online and trying to date makes me a vigilante for love, keep me logged in and signed up,  cause I’m ready to detect the bullshit you douche-canoes keep feeding me.

 

Boom. Nailed it. 👍🏻

2 thoughts on “Vigilante of Love

  1. I saw you on tinder and swiped right for more than one reason (this blog being one), but at this point I feel like I need to introduce you to an environment in your area that will provide you the market of suitors you’re seeking. I won’t list their attributes here, but I will acknowledge that they are lacking in one significant area: low integrity.

    Message me and I’ll see about introducing you to a better selection of partners so you can stop playing this love-hate game with relationships.

    (I know. Lofty claims, but at this point, what do you have to lose?)

    Liked by 1 person

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