Photo-Illustration: Marylu Herrera
In this week’s story, a woman who’s been dating a guy she met online realizes he hasn’t been completely honest with her: 47, single, New York
6:30 a.m. I’m an assistant principal, so my body is set to this wake-up time, even though I’m not working at all this month. The first thought that crosses my mind is, Yay! I get to see Erik tonight. We only hang out on Wednesdays because he’s training for a marathon and trains super-early every morning except Thursday.
9 a.m. Quickly look at my closet to see if I have anything to wear for tonight. I decide that I really want to turn it up, so I pull out a little black dress I’ve never worn before. I met Erik on Hinge about six weeks ago. There are a few issues — he lives on Long Island, for one, and he’s overly sexual (which I don’t mind but sometimes makes me wonder if he only wants me for sex). But I’m really into him and after a multiyear dry spell, it feels great to have a crush.
I’ve never been married, but I’ve had a few long-term relationships that were fun while they lasted. I’d really love to find the one. In the words of Charlotte from Sex and the City, “I’ve been dating since I was 15! I’m exhausted! Where is he?”
12 p.m. Earbuds ready, sneakers on, I head out the door to walk downtown, then over the Brooklyn Bridge, then back. Every day I try to get a long walk in. I love having summers off. I’m not exactly doing “nothing” — I’m volunteering at a food bank for a few nights each month, plus some one-off volunteer jobs. I also try to see friends and family members who I don’t have much time or energy for during the school year. I take as many trips with family as I can and just hang out the old-fashioned way — beach days, lazing around together, etc. Whenever I can get out of the city, I try to hike.
Erik loves hiking too. It’s one of the many things we have in common, as well as a love of traveling, dive bars, Italian food, and being outdoors in general. Also, he works in business development and is in between projects right now, so we’re both work-free and living our best lives this summer.
4 p.m. He texts, “I’m going to rampage you tonight.” I don’t think rampage is the right word. I don’t call him out on it. Did he mean ravage? Or wreck? Hmmm. He’s not the smartest guy I’ve ever dated. And yet, I’m still a little wet just thinking about it. Sex with Erik is next-level incredible.
6 p.m. Quick call from my sister who thinks the fact that Erik only sees me on Wednesdays is a bright-red flag. I’m not sure. I know for a fact he’s training for a marathon and that it’s super-important for his physical and mental health, so I’m not going to weaponize it.
9 p.m. We are back at my apartment after a nice little Italian dinner — dress looked great — and having sex. Our bodies fit so well together. I am practically screaming every time he goes down on me, and then again from the penetration. We both come and then take a shower together. It seriously feels like we’re in a movie — it’s all so hot and erotic.
11 p.m. This is the second time he’s slept over, and I love it. We watch a little TV and cuddle, then we both pass out. He spoons me, while we sleep, for a lot of the night.
DAY TWO
9 a.m. I’ve been lying here, fake sleeping, simply enjoying being in bed with this hot man. Finally, he’s awake too.
10:30 a.m. I know it’s very Love Island–coded but … he makes me breakfast. Avocado toast and scrambled eggs. Both are so good. I’m in charge of the coffee since he’s off caffeine right now.
12 p.m. We are back in bed having sex. When I said Erik was sexual, I meant that he’s always hard and ready to go, very touchy, constantly trying to fool around. Like, even if we’re drinking at a dive bar, his hand is up my skirt trying to finger me. He’s also asked for nudes several times, but I’ve wisely, and unwaveringly, declined. I work in the school system!
3 p.m. After a day of fucking (and a break for some food), it’s time for him to go back to Long Island. He has to get back to training tomorrow, and also he has some meetings and pitches coming up that he has to prepare for. Our little love bubble is over until next week.
7 p.m. Washing all my sheets and cleaning up my apartment. Erik texts that he’s home and missing me already.
9 p.m. We aren’t exclusive — we haven’t had the boyfriend-girlfriend talk yet, nothing even close. So I scroll the apps a little on my phone. There’s a guy who messaged me named Peter who says we went to college together. I am almost 50 years old so that was a long time ago, but he’s right and I vaguely remember him. We start chatting and talking about our lives and careers. It’s not very flirtatious, more like old friends reconnecting. He looks, how do I put this nicely: old. Erik, who is the same age as Peter, looks a million times better. But looks aren’t everything.
DAY THREE
10 a.m. I’ve barely had my second cup of coffee when Erik starts texting me for nude pics, and asking if I want to call him and “talk dirty.” He knows I don’t have work, so I try to come up with another excuse. I lie and say, “My parents and sisters are here!” Of course my parents and sister literally left for California today to visit another family member, but he’ll never put that together.
12:30 p.m. Another text from him asking what I’m wearing. He says he’s horny and wants to see my pussy. It’s a little much. I’m glad he’s thinking about me, but it’s not my thing and he knows it.
3:40 p.m. Get my nails done, then stop at a bookstore to pick up a beach read for an upcoming trip to Fire Island. My gay best friend is there all summer, and I always go for a few nights to witness his debauchery.
5 p.m. A few more “show me your tits” texts from Erik. I get one as I measure my apartment for a new kitchen table; another one as I contemplate what’s for dinner.
6 p.m. I decide to pick up sushi at a place I love, but it’s about 20 blocks away. I consider leaving my phone at home so I get a break from Erik’s texts, but luckily the only one I get is Pete from college asking if I’d like to have brunch some time. What a fucking Puritan in comparison to Erik. Brunch!
9:30 p.m. Ready to turn my phone off, curl up to my new book, and have a quiet evening. I see that Erik has texted again but honestly, I don’t even want to read it. His energy is interrupting my Zen today. Do I have to cut this guy out of my life? The sex is so good, but man, he was fucking weird and aggressive today.
DAY FOUR
10:30 a.m. By the time I have coffee and do a morning Zoom about some summer volunteer work I’m interested in, I’m ready to open Erik’s latest text from last night. I’m already in a bad mood because I’m almost positive this guy is no longer for me, and that sucks. And then, when I see that he’s sent an unsolicited dick pic, I’m actually shook. I feel a mixture of “how fucking obnoxious to send me this” and also, if I’m being honest, “man, I love that D.”
12:15 p.m. I keep looking at the pic, trying to figure out how to handle it. Do I break up with him over text? Do I try to explain that this behavior is inappropriate? Do I lighten up and have some fun? But then I look at the pic and finally shift my eyes from the actual penis to his hand that’s holding it, and I almost drop my phone. He’s wearing a wedding ring. It all hits me like a ton of bricks. This fucker is married! I cannot breathe.
3 p.m. After feeling frozen for a few hours, I call my best friend from childhood who works in law enforcement. I ask her to do a deep dive on him on one of those background-check sites, and she found out he has three kids and a wife. Keep in mind, I very specifically and directly asked him if he was married when we met, and he said he was never married and had no kids. I’m literally shaking.
7 p.m. After a long walk around the city, I decide to call him. He doesn’t pick up. I text him that it’s urgent he call me back. I wake home in silence, fuming and fighting back tears. When I come home, I kick my shoes off and just sit at my kitchen table, frozen.
9 p.m. He calls back, the shady fucker. I confront him about all of it. He’s silent for a minute and then he says, “I don’t know what to say, I’m sorry.” I tell him that he’s a piece of shit and to never contact me again.
11 p.m. I’m upset. I would never touch another woman’s man. I go to sleep feeling sick over it.
DAY FIVE
6 a.m. I’m awake even earlier than usual, spiraling a little. There’s a big part of me that wants to contact his wife. I don’t know what to do.
9:45 a.m. I contact Hinge and report him as a fraud. I mean, I honestly can’t believe that he had his whole face on Hinge and wasn’t afraid for his wife or friends of theirs to see his profile!
1:30 p.m. One of my best friends meets me in Central Park for an emergency walk and talk session. The main thing, I tell her, is that I feel really violated that I didn’t have the choice to sleep with a married man (someone else’s man). It goes against everything I stand for. The other thing is, I just feel sad for his wife and kids.
4 p.m. One of my volunteer jobs is tonight. It involves feeding unhoused people, so I’m able to focus on good people and good acts of kindness, not that jerk.
9 p.m. I come home, shower, put on cozy pajamas and text Pete back about that brunch. Not because I’m ready to move on so quickly but because he seems like a lovely, normal person and it’s hard to find single people my age.
DAY SIX
8 a.m. I wake up feeling a little better today, but I’m also now freaked out that this guy knows where I live and so much other stuff about me. I feel foolish for being so trusting.
12 p.m. One of my summer goals was to learn Italian because I’m going to Italy with my sisters in the fall, so I take an online course. It’s hard and I’m terrible with languages. However, I do notice that I go two hours without thinking about Erik and the betrayal.
3:45 p.m. Pete says he’s free tomorrow. He’s a doctor and has the day off. I try to find a way to tell him that I’ve just gone through hell with a guy I was dating, and I’m not in the best place for a “date,” but then I decide not to overthink it. We make a plan.
8 p.m. I get a drink with my friend from the park yesterday. She’s concerned for me, I can tell. I’m embarrassed that I ignored the red flags. She promises me it could have happened to anyone and that it’s a good thing I’m optimistic by nature. That makes me feel like crying, because right now I don’t feel like I’ll ever be optimistic about a guy again.
DAY SEVEN
7 a.m. Again, I wake up a little less shook than the day before, and the day before that.
9:30 a.m. I can’t help but go online and see what’s cooking. It’s just a habit by now, I guess. There’s one guy who I matched with a while ago, who sent a “how’s it going?” message. Something about his photos and profile seem too good to be true. I ask him if he wants to do a quick hello over FaceTime (so I’ll know he’s not a catfish) and he unmatches me. Jesus Christ.
12:30 p.m. Pete chose a super-cute restaurant in the West Village for brunch, and I’m walking there now. It’s kind of nice showing up for a date when you really have no desire to date them. Takes all the pressure off.
3:30 p.m. We actually had a great time! He was supersweet. He’s divorced and has teenagers and just seems really healthy, gentle, not toxic. I’m not sure I’m attracted to him, but we had a really great conversation and a warm hug good-bye. I think it’s an epidemic how fucked up these men are in our generation, but I will hold space for the fact that there are exceptions, and Pete might be one of them.
7:30 p.m. Pete texts asking for a link to one of the places I volunteer. He wants to participate on his day off next week. I make a mental note about how nice it is to get a text about wanting to help people in need, rather than “show me your tits.” Hopefully that chapter is behind me, and happy days with nicer people are in my future.
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