I woke up at 3am. Gasping for air. My body covered in sweat. My house didn’t have an air conditioner. It was August in Seoul so it was hot.

I activated the routine I had used to make it through most of the summer. I took a cold shower and air dried in front of the two jumbo fans I had in my bed room. That did the trick and I was cool enough to go back to sleep.

I laid back down. i tossed and turned for an hour before deciding to get up and start my day.

I went out to my living room and sat down on my wooden lawn furniture. On the floor, in front of me, my big luggage case open and packed with every single item of clothing that I owned. The big luggage case was maybe half way filled.

I didn’t have a TV. I opened my laptop computer and watched a few seconds of several different music videos. None of them had a fast enough pace to out do the speed of my thoughts. None of them had enough emotional impact to pull me out of my pit of emptiness. It was too early to turn up the volume loud enough to drown out my life. Gotta be mindful of the nice old lady who lives next door.

The lawn furniture was not comfortable enough to sit for longer than ten minutes so I mived down to the floor next to my luggage. I had to kick aside some pizza boxes, beer cans, and chip bags to get a clear space.

The night before I had talked to a best friend Jacob on the phone. He told me about Tinder. He shared a humorous story about another one of his friends who had used the app while still married.

My marriage ended more than a year ago. I hadn’t seen anyone romantically in a long time. My wife and I only had fake passion and romance for the past few years. Since at least 2017, all our dates were terrible. It was always my wife trying but failing to hold back her venomous insults. And me hoping in vain I would have the meditation power to withstand her barrages before a migraine headache set in.

Tinder? Why not? What the fuck is it anyway? Some app? Like facebook for singles or something? No idea.

I loaded the app. I uploaded some photos. Not being too selective. I didn’t write anything for my profile. I didn’t add my education or job. Who would believe I’m a Seoul National Graduate and science fiction writer? Hell, it’s my life and I hardly believe it. Ha! Fuck it.

With my identity ready to go, all shitty and poorly put together, I started my life in the internet dating world.

Next, I started looking at other people’s profiles. I tapped the heart button on the bottom if I liked a profile and I tapped the x button if I didn’t like the profile. I didn’t know you were supposed to swipe right for like and left for nope. Anyways, within a few minutes, some girl named Valerie matched with me.

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The excitement. The rush of happiness I felt when someone I was attracted to was also attracted to me.

It was about 4 am when we connected. I got up and made some coffee.

I didn’t know what you do after you match. I went back to the clear spot on my floor and drank my coffee tapping like on every profile, hoping someone else would like me back and give me another one of those rushes.

Tinder quickly ran out of possible candidates. No more matches and all that tapping. Oh fuck. More rejection. Thrown away by my wife and now this. Saddness.

I sat my phone down and looked around at the four empty walls of my living room. No photos. No art up. Numb cement covered with patternless plain wall paper.

Then! Yes! Fuck yes! My phone rumbled and chirped a ding dong sound. And Fuck yes! Notification from Tinder!

I open the app. Its Valerie. She wants to chat! This beautiful black queen. All those curves and fun smiles in her profile. And she wants to chat with little loser low me! The Tinder app tells me she is about 4km away.

We get through the introductions. We get into a game called guess where the lady is from. She starts by telling me its a place with a lot of minerals. I guess Vermont. She is like, “What? No! Try harder!” I say, “Too easy, you’re from Kazahkstan and your mineral richness comes from your world leading potassium deposits.” She is like double what the fuck. She gives me a few more hints. I finally get it, she is from South Africa. This conversation is fun. I am happy for the first time in months. Like adult happy. Not boner happy! Get your mind out of the gutter! Happy, like, hey, I’m making a connection with someone who has adult worries and we are talking about our shit together. That kind of happy.

I get tears in my eyes but I’m not crying. She tells me she is awake early, can’t sleep. She is a little manic, packing her stuff, and considering leaving Korea. Her English teaching contract is not over but she’s been a good employee at her academy for almost four years so they would understand if she wanted to leave.

She feels isolated here. She says she never really acclimated to Korea. She misses her family and friends back home.

We move our conversation out of Tinder and into Kakaotalk.

With the way it is going, I feel like she is pressing for a meetup. I slink out of the conversation with some sly responsible excuses. I tell her I need to get cleaned up and get ready for my day.

After the chat was over, I cleaned my house for the first time in about a month. In the background, I had on a reasonable volume of Taylor Swift kicking. I do some silly dances while I scrub my way through the mountain of dishes in my sink.

I filled three trash bags. I threw away some of my cheap plates and decided I would buy nicer replacements today.

I have the money. Why do I hate myself so much that I only buy the bargain mismatched stuff from the thrift shop.

Thank you Valerie. Thank you Tinder. Kindness. A polite, warm connection made possible by this technology.

Fast forward a few months, my house has stayed consistently clean. I bought some real furnishings so my house isn’t the headquarters of my despair and discomfort. I’m staying in Korea because I feel like I have some budding friendships with the people I chat with on Tinder. Getting the visa won’t be easy for a ton of reasons. But I’ll figure it out.

I should look at my phone history and make sure I get the exact date I downloaded Tinder. That’s an important day. That was a turning point. Back toward hope.