Ch 9: Experimenting

This period of my life was like a strange little experiment. I had the urge to explore the different dimensions of love—what it's like to fall for someone across the world, to live in a long-distance relationship. It felt like the right time to try something new, and I didn't mind if it turned into a bit of a comedy along the way.

It all started with a Facebook group—one dedicated to tea lovers from all over the globe. She and I instantly clicked. We were from different countries, yet our personalities matched perfectly. We both loved tea, of course, but we shared a love for the little things in life that made everything feel cozy and familiar, like the simple joy of a warm cup on a cold day.

Our chats began with small talk, casual banter about tea types and brewing methods, but before I knew it, they grew longer, and our calls became more frequent. And, naturally, things started to shift. The conversations turned from innocent to a little flirtatious. I couldn't help myself. Yes, I did it, mate—I let myself get caught up in the excitement of it all.

It was fun, yes, but to be honest, part of me was doing it for research. I was working on a romantic comedy book at the time, and I figured why not dive into a real-world experiment? It would help me understand the quirks and dynamics of a relationship, even one that existed entirely through texts and screens.

I bonded with her on an unexpected level. We had so much in common, shared so many thoughts, laughed about random things, and even discussed deeper topics. It felt like something genuine was growing, even though we were oceans apart.

But then, things started to get weird. I was in college by now, and she told me she was too. We even talked about future visits, maybe meeting halfway or something. But when I went to look deeper into her profile—just out of curiosity, you know?—I discovered something that didn't sit right with me. She wasn't in college. She wasn't even close to it. She had lied to me from the start.

At that point, I became a bit obsessive—maybe even a little like Joe Goldberg in the process, which, looking back, was not my finest hour. I dug deeper into her digital presence, but I couldn't stop myself. It felt like a betrayal, and I couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.

So, I did what I thought was best—I started ignoring her. It didn't feel right anymore. The whole thing was built on lies, and I had a rule: Never date a junior. It wasn't about age; it was about respecting boundaries and being honest.

Eventually, we talked again. I confronted her about the lies, asked her why she had to hide the truth. To my surprise, instead of apologizing, she got angry with me. She didn't seem to understand why I was upset, and in a way, it made me feel even more frustrated.

Then, she blocked me.

I wasn't even mad at that point. I was just relieved. She later tried to send me a message again, but by then, I had moved on. I wasn't going to play this game anymore.

It was fun while it lasted, but it was a lesson learned. Real-life experiments don't always turn out as expected, and sometimes, a little distance is needed for clarity.