SO…I texted him. Just once more.

When I saw his text on Friday I was too shocked to come up with a ball-busting response. Two days later and I had it written in my mind. I feel a bit better, but all I want is for him to feel as shitty as he’s made me feel. I am not a vengeful person and I will never be Blair Waldorf. But I am mad. How dare he decide that my weekend would be shitty weekend?

Ironically, one year ago this week my previous boyfriend dumped me. He chose to add some humor to the situation and do it on none other than Friday the thirteenth. So clever right? Looking back, he was not someone I could see myself with long term, but it still hurt. And one year later it looks like I have circled back to the same place.

Keep this up and my gravestone will read “the girl who got dumped in October.”

As I’ve been processing all this over the weekend, I’ve come to the conclusion thatevery guy I’ve dated has been an ass is because I live in New York City. Sex and the City wasn’t a myth. Men here suck.

The city provides its inhabitants with an endless supply of possibility. There is always a better job, a better apartment, a more attractive person to date. We live in a city with millions of people. So basically if the girl they’re dating is missing some quality, they just open up Bumble and find the next hot blonde to try out. What a sick way of thinking. It provides men with the ability to work their way through women without a second thought. Guys notoriously don’t do well with too many choices, but what have we given them? Tinder.

Look, I’m not dissing the apps. I think they’re a brilliant invention in this technology-driven world. But I am realizing what they have done to our generation. And it doesn’t seem to be a good thing.

I’ve done enough complaining this gloomy Sunday afternoon, so I am going to open up Seamless and scroll through the overwhelming amount of options for dinner tonight. Pretending I will try something new, and spending 20 minutes reading reviews of new restaurants, I will inevitably return to the same Thai restaurant and order my staple. When given millions to choose from, our brain gets overwhelmed. Can’t the same be said about dating in New York?

XOXO -J