There’s a saying that everything happens for a reason. Often, we don’t know what that reason is, but there is one. When people ask me how I met my boyfriend, I almost always answer the same thing: “I met him online.” Yes, I met my long-distance boyfriend through the wonderful world of Tinder.

As if finding romance in your twenties and thirties isn’t hard enough, tech geeks have found a way to digitize rejection. Seems easy at first: swipe right for the people that interest you, swipe left if they don’t. They won’t know anyway unless you match (for the swipe culture illiterate, it means both of you swiped right on each other).

Tinder Trauma

Trying online dating, as an elder millennial, should’ve come as second nature to me. Even before swipe culture was a thing, online dating sites have been present for a while, mostly in western countries. However, I am based in a third world Asian country, and online dating was often either associated with selling your body or hooking up – neither of which appealed to me.

People in my country rarely find proper romance in dating apps because of the aforementioned reasons. But little did I know, I’d find love in what I had come to believe was a hopeless place.

Most of the time, my matches in any dating app would be huge disappointments: they’re either looking for something casual, or are just plain rude. Unsolicited dick picks, weird fetishes involving feet, and other ridiculous shite you’d expect from men with minimal effort (if any). Ladies, amirite? So yeah, I matched with my boyfriend but didn’t really give it much thought.

I Told Myself to Stay Away from His Type

Prior to being with my boyfriend, I was in a serious relationship with someone who was sort of in the same general categories. My last ex was also military, American-born, and only in the Philippines for a short amount of time before going back stateside. When that guy and I went our separate ways, I told myself to stay away from the likes of him, so much that I didn’t date at all for almost a year.

So when I saw my now boyfriend on Tinder, wearing his fatigues in his main photo, I stopped for a good minute. I looked through his photos and perused his bio. He was handsome, unapologetically funny, and ridiculously attractive to me in all possible ways. Plus he had a dog (and cat, I would later learn). And that was just his profile. His personality really shone through, so much that it beat everyone else in my matches. (Don’t tell him, but I essentially stopped talking with nearly everyone else once he struck a conversation with me.)

But he’s military. He’s probably gonna be in the US soon. This might not even go anywhere. You might not even be his type. Yep, I kept giving myself reasons to swipe left and never see his face again. His stupidly handsome face. Cringing and freaking out a little, I swiped right.

We matched.

I dropped my phone on the bed.

Playing It Cool

In Filipino, we call that jittery, exciting feeling “kilig” (many Americans would call it “having butterflies in your stomach” but that’s not even close). I matched with the cute guy whom I almost swiped left. We matched. We. Matched. I was ecstatic. Over the moon. High as a kite with no drugs in sight.

What do I do now, I asked myself. I was going out to watch some movies and have a great day off from work, and here comes this guy to come and ruin my plans!

You know what, Imee, be cool! You have plans, go and do them! So I did. But then he said hi.

Okay, say hi! Then go. So I did. I went out and went on my merry way to watch some movies and go around the mall. I had a full day ahead of me before even knowing he existed, so I carried on.

Plans Shmlans

But he was like a magnet. I couldn’t stop texting back. Pretty soon, we had a conversation going and had moved on from Tinder to exchanging numbers. I kept my phone away during the two movies I was watching, but the whole time in between them we were just texting and flirting nonstop, getting to know each other and throwing ridiculous banter.

By my second movie, which was a last full show ending sometime around midnight, I told him I’m gonna disappear for a couple of hours again and he can just doze off if he wants. I expected him to. There was work tomorrow. I work at night so it didn’t matter, but he is military and had to be up by 5 or 6 AM.

Lo and behold, I finished the movie and found out he was still up, drinking with his fellow Marines because it was their day off. Also apparently, Red Horse is so amazing they just can’t stop drinking.

The Fundamental Question

Neither of us wanted to stop texting, even though it was way beyond his bed time. He complimented me on how great my English was, and I threw an “I wonder what you sound like” at him. I was just curious because all we’ve been doing is talk via texts, and neither of us knew each other’s accents.

He was afraid I’d have a thick Filipino accent and I was afraid he’d have a weird American accent. A little racist, the both of us, but all in good fun.

He called.

He sounded amazing.

I melted.

We talked for maybe an hour, maybe longer. We just couldn’t stop talking with each other. I realized I had kept him from sleeping and said we should probably say good night.

Liquid Confidence

“Nevermets” are people who connected romantically online but have never met in person. We were going to be that for a bit before his unit would fly back from base and into Manila, but realized we were pretty much committed to each other from the get go.

One Saturday evening, I went out to a show and hung out with my friends while he was with his Marines for some weekend drinking (the only time they’re allowed while deployed). We still texted, but went on with our social lives.

I went home, said good night, and went to bed. Come 2 AM, my phone rang.

I almost didn’t answer, but I knew it was him and so I got up and answered.

I was sleepy, he was inebriated. I barely remember how the conversation was steered in that direction.

But he asked me the actual fundamental questions: “Would you say you’re my girlfriend? Would you say I’m your boyfriend?”

He shot his shot.

I said yes.

The Irony of Distance

We’ve been together for over a year and have stayed with each other in person for four times since. We have plans of seeing each other in the foreseeable future.

Ironically, this has been the most loving and mature relationship I have been in. My man has stuck with me through everything – through all the panic attacks, all the blessings, all the hardships, and even through my father’s demise even though he couldn’t physically be around because of military rules. He has been there for me and has been my rock since day one, ever so supportive in everything I do no matter how crazy or ridiculous it may be.

I know what we have is truly special, and I am thankful I have him in my life.

So about that time I almost swiped left, I’m glad I didn’t.