Destiny?
“I see a tall, tan, handsome man in your future. His initials will start with J, and you should meet him soon,” the fortuneteller declares briskly into the phone.
Relief floods through me, and I can’t help but smile. “Thank you so much.” Maybe love really is just around the corner; maybe I’m not destined to be single forever after all.
“Yes, of course, sweetheart. Just so you know, we’ll be charging your card $23. Goodbye now.”
Click. The abrupt ending makes me jump, but almost immediately, hope seeps in. An answer, maybe real, maybe not, but still a possibility. Love is on its way. Apparently.
I open my bank app. Twenty-three dollars: the price of hope and the ghostly promise of a man whose name might be James, Jason, or Jerry. I close the app quickly before buyer’s remorse sets in.
So, what does a woman with imminent romance do while she waits? Maybe I need a distraction, a pastime besides anxiously checking notifications for a message from someone named J.
I let my thoughts wander as I absentmindedly scroll through TikTok. Suddenly, a video on crochet catches my eye: mesmerizing loops and colors, deft fingers shaping yarn into something beautiful. That could be fun. Maybe I should give it a shot. Smiling to myself, I save the video for later, ready to make something with my hands besides wishes and what-ifs.
After weeks of resisting, I finally decide to download A dating app. Maybe a little outside help is what I need to find the guy the psychic told me about, the tall and tan one who’s supposedly destined for me.
But hey, no harm in chatting with a few guys while I’m at it, right? I sign up, not thinking much of it, and forget about the app until the next day. Two matches pop up: Adam and John. Adam wastes no time and sends me a message.
“Hey, are you from around here?” “No, I just moved here recently.” “Nice. So what do you like to do around here?” I stare at the screen, somewhat annoyed. “I just moved here, so I honestly don’t know yet.” “Oh, yeah, right. My bad, lol. So do you wanna hang out sometime?” Hmm.
Do I want to? Maybe I’ll say yes now and bail later if it gets weird. “Yeah, sure.” “All right, cool. So what places do you like to eat at around here?” I blink at my phone. Is he even reading what I write? I exit the conversation, feeling a mix of irritation and amusement, and start swiping again. Swipe left. Too intense.
Swipe left. Too arrogant. Swipe left. Too old. I’m about to swipe left again, but something stops me; a new profile catches my eye. He’s cute. His bio reads: I love cats, and I’m looking for a cuddle buddy who likes to play video games. That’s… different. I flip through his photos.
Wait. Every photo looks like a completely different person. Suspicious. Catfish vibes. Nope, I’m about to swipe left. Then I notice he’s super-liked me. For some reason, that fact gives me pause.
I have a mini internal debate, but curiosity wins, and I swipe right. I mean, he doesn’t fit the psychic’s description, and I’m just here for fun anyway.
Just as my phone buzzes with a message from John, my focus stays on the new match. Checking out his profile again, I notice in one photo he has long, dark hair and is skinny; in another, he’s got a short haircut and a rounder face.
The differences are just enough to make me squint. I tap through his profile once more. Maybe these photos are old, or maybe he’s truly a catfish. Or maybe I’m just too curious about why he super-liked me. John sends another message, but I flip my phone face down, suddenly bored with the same kind of conversations.
I head to the kitchen and make myself some tea. When I return, I see a notification: a message from Onyx. Wait, did I match with someone named Onyx? I open the chat. “Hey, I like your profile. Do you go hiking often?” I can’t help but smile; at least someone actually read my profile. Now he has my attention. Who is this Onyx? I click on his pictures again; it’s Mr. Superliker.
I reply, “I used to when I lived in San Diego, but I just moved up here to Murrieta, so I don’t really know where to go.” He responds quickly: “Oh, really? Well, I know that area pretty well. Maybe I can show you a few places.” I smirk at my phone.
Time for some real conversation. “Yeah, I’d like that. So, what do you do for work?” “I stock shelves at Stater Bros. What about you?” “I’m currently in school for dentistry.” Well, maybe Murrieta’s about to get a little more interesting.
He replies once more, “Wow, that’s amazing. How is that going? Is it difficult?” I can’t help but smile; he actually seems interested. I think to myself that I’ve never had a conversation like this with a guy before.
I respond, “Yeah, it’s lots of biology classes. Right now I’m taking organic chemistry, which is no joke,” making a lighthearted comment to keep the conversation easy. He quickly answers, “Wow, you must be really smart.” I blush and realize we’ve talked enough about me.
I decide to shift the conversation. “So what do you like to do for fun?” I ask. He replies, “I mainly just hang out with friends or chill by myself. It gets pretty cold in Menifee, and honestly, sometimes I just want someone to cuddle with at night.” Instantly, my excitement deflates.
I stare at the screen, feeling a wave of disappointment. There it is: he’s not looking for a real connection, just something physical. I sigh and close the app, a little frustrated. Maybe it’s time to expand my options, I think. If I pay for the subscription, I might meet someone outside my city, or even my state. Maybe then I’ll find someone interested in something real.
I make a mental note to check my bank account once I get paid. A quick glance at the clock tells me it’s already 9 p.m. Right on cue, I yawn. Time for bed, I think, leaving the search for another day.
The next morning, I slip out of bed and move through my regular routine, savoring the quiet of the house. I make myself a cup of lemon ginger tea, swirling in just a touch of milk and sugar, then wrap my hands around the warm mug. The first sip chases away the morning chill, a small, familiar comfort. Pulling on a sweater, I step out onto the porch. The cool December air is bracing, but I love the clarity it brings. I exhale, watching my breath cloud in the early light, and take in the stillness of the view stretching out before me.
My phone buzzes, snapping me from my thoughts. The screen lights up with a message from Onyx. I frown. Hadn’t I been clear enough before? For a second, I’m tempted to ignore him again, but curiosity gets the better of me, and I swipe the notification open. “So when are you going to go out on a tea date?” I pause, reading the message twice.
He’d actually read my profile, every quirky detail, including my not-so-secret ambition to try every tea in existence. He’d mentioned my love of hiking before, but this feels more deliberate. I decide to play along. “I’m free this weekend,” I type back, heart skipping despite myself.
Almost immediately, his reply pops up. “How about this Saturday at 12:30?” My fingers hover over the keyboard, but I find myself grinning. “That works for me.” “Awesome, it’s a date,” he replies, and a flutter rises unexpectedly in my stomach.
How did that happen? Just minutes ago I was swearing him off, and now I’m counting down the days to Saturday, hoping, maybe, for something new. I glance up at the calendar and sigh; it’s only Monday. Great. This is going to be a long week.
On Tuesday, I decided to actually try learning crochet, so I headed to the store for supplies. There were so many choices for yarn, but I settled on three different bundles: one pink, one purple, and one red. That should be enough to start, right? Next, I wandered down the aisle with the crochet hooks in all different sizes.
I had no idea what that meant, but I spotted a two-pack of cute metallic pink hooks labeled 5mm. That should work, I thought. As I waited in line at checkout, I noticed a magazine called “Crochet Patterns for Beginners.” Perfect. I picked it up and paid for everything, already excited to get started with my new hobby.
When I got home, I pulled out the supplies and flipped through the magazine. A pattern for a bag caught my eye that could be fun to make. I grabbed one of the hooks and the pink yarn, read over the pattern, and immediately realized this might be harder than I expected. Maybe a YouTube video would help? I searched “how to crochet a bag for beginners,” scrolled for a bit, and clicked on a video featuring a really cute bag labeled “beginner-friendly.”
With my hook and yarn in hand, I watched the girl in the video demonstrate a slip knot and followed along; it seemed easy enough. “Now we move on to making a chain,” she said. I watched her movements and copied them. Okay, I was making progress. “Once you have 20 chains, you’re going to crochet back into the chain you just made.”
I did my best to follow, but my work didn’t quite look like hers. I kept trying, but by the time I reached the end, my creation looked nothing like hers, more like a tangled yarn ball. This was definitely not as easy as it seemed. I put the crochet hook down. Maybe I’ll try again another day.
