I met him on a dating app that felt more like browsing a catalogue than searching for anything meaningful. Profile after profile slid past my tired eyes, each one carefully curated to look adventurous, witty, or emotionally available, yet somehow all of them felt hollow. Everyone seemed to be performing a version of themselves, polished and rehearsed, as though love were something you auditioned for rather than built. I wasn’t hopeful when I downloaded the app. I was bored, lonely, and restless, scrolling late at night in my small Bristol flat while rain streaked endlessly down the windows and buses hissed past outside.

My life had settled into a dull pattern: an uninspiring office job where no one noticed my efforts, weekends that disappeared into laundry and cheap takeout, and friendships that had grown distant as everyone else moved forward while I stayed still. I felt like I was watching life happen through glass. Some nights, I scrolled just to feel like something might change, even if I didn’t believe it would. Then I matched with Soren. His profile didn’t shout for attention. No exaggerated jokes, no gym selfies, no dramatic travel montages.