Dear Diary,

It is over between Tim and me. And I keep telling myself it is all for good.

After our initial hookup, things became like a montage in a romantic Hollywood movie. At least twice a week, we would hit each other up, requesting to meet. The sex remained great. The exploration, the intensity and the rapturous climax always made the following week something to look forward to. He even sent me a friend’s request on Facebook, one which took me a long time to accept because I thought it was weird and we were moving too fast.

Of course, he claimed I was the only guy he was hooking up with, but I knew it was a lie because my catfish/stalking game proved otherwise. He constantly fell into the trap of inviting these fake personas I created. I kept telling myself not to be bothered by all that, that all that mattered was he liked me, we had a great time together and every time was better that the last.

The circle was always the same: the invitation text, me driving to the parking lot near his house, him ranting about his day, his job and bills, and then the silence that followed as soon as I took off my clothes. I had the impression that he was a liar or at least exaggerated most of his stories but I told myself he was just a regular FWB and that that was all that mattered.

That was till my stalking game caught a big-sized trophy.

You may remember, Dear Diary, that I talked about a super hot guy that never replied my messages when I used to hit him up on Grindr. Well, he decided to add his Instagram link to his profile and I got the shock of my life. I clicked on the link to his IG and it opened up a vast page of pictures. His name is Mark and he is a fitness and underwear model. When I say underwear model, think Calvin Klein. He is hot, cute, and just about my age. I kept navigating through his page till I landed on a picture taken in a very familiar place. I looked hard at the picture, trying to figure out where this familiar location was.

And then it hit me. It was Tim’s bathroom! At this point, I was in an inexplicably weird mood. I started going through Mark’s page all over again and I saw more pictures taken in Tim’s bedroom, bathroom and car. Endless pictures, with one snapshot taken quite recently, judging from the date it was uploaded.

I didn’t know how to feel. Jealous maybe, because this Mark is a FUCKING 10! His body is to die for. Mad! Or pissed because Tim was a FUCKING liar! Or pleased because, even with having a hot guy like Mark, Tim still called me up on the regular.

I went into an overdrive of stalking and investigating every social media page and reading into every picture. The deeper I went, the more I unearthed more pictures taken in Tim’s house. I didn’t understand the relationship. They didn’t follow each other on any social media platform. Tim didn’t have a picture of Mark on any of his social media pages, but Mark had endless photos taken in Tim’s house, even though there was no pic with Tim on his page. Some pictures, I felt, had to have been definitely taken by Tim.

I told myself not to judge or reach any conclusions on what I didn’t know or understand, but I kept digging deep until, as if fate had it out for me, I logged on to Grindr one day, and their profile pictures were side by side. They were obviously in the same location. My instinct pushed me again to check Mark’s Instagram page, and sure enough, a recent picture in Tim’s bathroom had just been uploaded.

I was furious. I was mad. I endlessly tried to soothe myself with the words: “It’s Grindr, what did you expect?” or “Of course, Mark is a hot guy, were you expecting Tim to leave him for you?” I started to fall into that emotional state I hate so much, one where I feel played on and helpless because there is nothing I can do. I swore never to take Tim’s words seriously. He was a damn liar! But then again, I asked myself why I was taking whatever we had seriously. The rule was never to take any guy on Grindr seriously. Never ever!

A Friday came and Tim hit me up in the evening, requesting for a meet. At this point, after all the information I’d gathered, I wasn’t as enthusiastic about meeting him the way I used to feel. So when a colleague at work invited me over for game night at his place, I quickly accepted and messaged Tim that I had an event to attend, hoping to inform him later that I wouldn’t be able to come over because the event ended very late.

I went for the game night, got carried away and forgot about the plan. I didn’t text him the excuse I’d intended. I slept almost all day on Saturday and logged into Grindr on Sunday. Minutes later, Tim sent me a message.

I was waiting for you on Friday. Why didn’t you come, he inquired.

I explained that I left the event late and forgot to inform him of my inability to come to his place. He continued with this endless guilt trip rant about how he had never turned me down anytime I wanted to see him, and how he was always available when I needed him. Being the talker that he is, the messages were coming in endlessly.

Then I decided to be petty and replied: I guess you called another guy to come over.

This must have angered him greatly (in a way that made me suspect that he did invite another guy over), because he typed back: Are you dumb? Are you calling me a hoe?

Then the endless rant of messages started again. Messages endlessly pouring in at a pace I couldn’t even catch up with to read. I apologized, but his messages, showing a rage I felt was fake and unnecessary, kept flooding my screen.

Without thinking then, I sent him the “Peace out” emoji, and while he was still typing, I hit the Block button.

And instantly regretted it.

Written by Duke

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