Ah yes, the modern love affair. So, here I am, throwing my hat in the ring—because clearly, what this world needs is another emotionally stunted guy on an affairs platform. Let’s cut to the chase: I’m 38, chronically looking, and deeply committed to my life of disillusionment. I’ve mastered the art of investing just enough time and attention to give you hope before I inevitably disappoint you. It’s a talent, really. I’m thrilled to offer you a string of broken conversations, occasional sarcasm, and my unmatched ability to turn minor issues into Chernobyl. Message me if you want regret your life decisions.

With me you’ll get:

• Spending too much time alone, contemplating the futility of it all
• Perfecting the art of mixed signals and vague responses
• Netflix and HBO Max shows I’ll claim to love but never finish because, honestly, nothing holds my attention for long
• Sending 4 AM “you up?” texts because what’s a little emotional whiplash between strangers?
• Lamenting the downfall of society while contributing nothing useful to it
• I’m on here to find someone who’s not looking for anything serious (or anything at all, really).
• I can offer you inconsistent texting, a touch of misanthropy, and an uncanny ability to avoid vulnerability at all costs.
• If you’re hoping for meaningful conversations or someone who genuinely cares about your day, well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news.
• But if you want someone to briefly distract you from your existential dread before ghosting, I’m your guy. We can both pretend this will lead to something, then part ways without a second thought.

The ideal candidate:

• People with no expectations whatsoever
• Those who enjoy being let down
• Fans of sarcasm, pessimism, and the occasional existential rant
• Someone who’s perfectly okay with sporadic attention followed by hours and days of silence
• I expect you to be a mind reader, instantly knowing when I want space and when I need attention, without me having to say a word.
• You should always be available to deal with my erratic emotional state, while simultaneously never needing anything from me in return.
• Oh, and it would be great if you could look like a supermodel, never age, and somehow fix all of my deep-seated personal issues without complaining.
• Is that too much to ask?

Final Note: Let’s not waste time pretending there’s some fairytale ending here. I’ll probably charm you with my dry wit and then ruin it with crippling indifference. But hey, at least we’ll both have something to complain about afterward.