The love of your life dumps you on a Friday.  The rug has sudden been whipped out from under all the lovely weekend plans you had made together.  You mourn the death of your relationship all day Saturday.  You alternate between crying jags and sleeping out of pure exhaustion.  But you wake up to the cold lonely reality and start the cycle all over again.  You listen to some very cruel Country songs and are sure they were written specifically about you.  You are still grieving on Sunday until you realize one positive thing:  You’ve lost your appetite and have dropped at least a pound or two.  You read an article online that advises singles in the throes of a breakup to get rid of everything connected with the past love—pictures, love letters, gifts, all the flirtacious test messages you’ve saved on your phone.  Inspired, you do all the above and even go so far as to delete your ex’s number from your Contact List and email address book.  That done, you still feel a giant hole in your heart.  You can’t remember ever feeling this rotten when you got dumped or jilted in high school.  You realize that this was because there were always a half dozen replacement boyfriends waiting in the wings.  You decide that the best remedy for a broken heart is to find a new love interest as quickly as possible. 

On Monday morning you sign up for online dating on Match.com.  They are offering a three-day free trial.  You must guarantee with a credit card which they will then bill if you decide to stay longer than three days.   You create a profile with the heading, “Creative and spontaneous—seeking a partner in crime.”  You’re not sure how to describe your perfect date, so you are deliberately vague and open-ended.  Under “type of person I am looking for,” you check “any.”  You supplement your profile with a few of the best pictures you have of yourself and hit “submit.”  By Monday night you are pleased to find you have had 75 “hits” on your profile.  Eleven men have sent you emails showing their interest, and another 15 have “winked” at you, which is the lazy man’s way of showing interest without having to bother with an email.  You don’t want to be rude, so you answer all of the emails and wink back at about half of the winkers.  You even give your phone number out to a few of your new suitors.

Immediately your phone is ringing.  It is Paul from Sheboygan.  He operates a tavern and wants you to drop in for a visit.  Someone beeps in on your conversation.  It is Jason from Waukesha who is 34—13 years your junior.  Hmmmm… interesting.  Next comes a text message from Craig, a prison guard from Oak Creek who is interested in meeting for a drink at Magoo’s, a bar in West Allis.  Later there’s a call from Marc a transplanted Frenchman living in Wauwatosa.  You make a note to invest in a detailed map of Southeastern Wisconsin. 

By Tuesday there are over 100 profile views, 12 winks and another 15 emails.  You start to be more selective about how many you answer.  Paul from Sheboygan calls again and talks you into a meeting at a coffee shop for Wednesday evening, your night off.  After you hang up with him the phone rings again and it is Steve who has transferred here from somewhere in the South and is looking for new friends.  Did you give your number to him too?  You can’t remember.  You have to rush upstairs and pull up his profile so you know who you are talking to.  Robert, a professor from Whitefish Bay doesn’t have your number yet, but has been persistently sending emails trying to tempt you into meeting for a drink at the Silver Spring House some time soon.  He looks handsome in a scholarly way, so you reply with your phone number to him too. 

Wednesday comes along with another 75 profile hits.  You decide to edit your profile a bit, add a new primary photo and a half dozen “secondary” photos.  Almost immediately, some of the men send emails commenting on your new pictures.  You get a call from a fellow named Rick and make tentative plans to meet him for a drink at a nearly Italian restaurant on tomorrow at 5:30 p.m.  Robert the professor calls and wants to make a date to meet Friday at 4 p.m.  You duly note this on the calendar you bought specifically for this purpose.  You fret over what to wear for your first official Match.com date with Paul from Sheboygan.  Finally you decide to just be comfortable and wear jeans and a sweater.  You can’t miss Paul because he is blocking the door to Starbucks, flower in hand, when you arrive.  You are touched, but also reminded how your ex did nearly the exact same thing.  Paul is actually better looking than his pictures, so you are pleasantly surprised, but you keep superimposing your ex’s face on Paul’s body, and there is no comparison.  Paul doesn’t stand a chance because you are still in love with your ex.  You can almost hear your sister and assorted friends lecturing you to give yourself time to “find yourself” and avoid a rebound romance. 

Thursday dawns with another 80 profile hits and 12 more emails.  You quickly weed out all those without pictures, then all those with homely or just plain ugly pictures.  When scanning the profiles you find yourself subconsciously favoring profiles of men over 6’ and with incomes over 150K even though you know this is shallow.   Your phones rings, but you ignore it and let the answering machine do its job.  You arrive for your date with Rick resolving to give the guy a chance and not compare to your ex, but you know it is a lost cause.  Rick has a severe case of adult acne and has to be at least an inch shorter than you. 

By Friday, your total hits have topped 400, and you have 14 new emails to sort through, but nothing compares to your ex.  Things look up on your date with Robert.  You share a passion for 70’s era sitcoms and shoot trivia questions back and forth to each other for three hours before you finally say goodbye with a hug and a peck on the cheek.  You lay low Friday night with a bowl of popcorn and watch movies, but of course this is what you always  used to do with your ex.  You can’t stand it and pad upstairs to check your Match.com standings.  You page through profile after profile of paunchy, balding, older men and get even more depressed. 

By Saturday, though, you are ready to get back into the game and manage to schedule three dates for the day—Steve, the southern engineer for breakfast; Jim, a HVAC contractor for lunch; and Jack, a CPA, for dinner.  Steve is cute and has the charming accent working for him, but you’re having a hard time keeping the conversation rolling.  You part with a perfunctory hug and peck.  Lunch with Jim is a little livelier.  You are both huge fans of the HBO drama “The Sopranos” and talk about the various plot lines until long after the regular  lunch crowd has gone.  However, there is a down side to Jim:  He has such poor dental hygiene that you can hardly get near for the traditional hug and peck.  It is nearly time for your dinner with Jack.  You rush home to change and touch up makeup.  Checking your email you discover eight new Match emails and 12 more winks.  They will have to wait…

You’re not sure what to expect out of Jack because, in the only photo he has posted, his face is partially hidden under a rain poncho.  You wonder about this, but his profile also states he is 6’4” and “fit and athletic.”  It doesn’t hurt either that his income is in the +150K range.  You arrive at the restaurant with a mixture of excitement and dread.  On cue, your cell rings and it is Jack directing you to come to the directly to the restaurant’s bar area where he has a drink waiting for you.  “I’m sitting at the far end of the bar,” he says.  You immediately know which one Jack is because he stands to greet you and is most certainly is 6’4”, although “fit and athletic” is questionable.  He gives you a huge bear hug and jockeys for a kiss which you deflect with a turn of your head.  He hands you a drink and proposes a toast.  “To us!” he proclaims, and you can tell by his boozy enthusiasm that he is probably a couple of drinks ahead of you.  At dinner he insists on sitting next to you rather than across from you, so you get the feeling all night long that you haven’t gotten a real good look at him.  He keeps touching your back, your arms, patting your hair and telling you how beautiful you are.  You marvel at the fact that rather than making you feel happy and confident, the feeling you are getting is closer to the creeps.  Jack keeps the drinks coming without asking.  Seeing clearly where this is leading, you announce that you really do need to get going.  When you arrive home there is an email message from Jack that proclaims the following: 

i really enjoyed last night meeting you and i haven't been that excited in a long time..i think maybe it showed??;) so this match thing gets a little hard sometimes too...the hard part is trying to balance your initial feelings and reality..;) i know i want to get to know you..and i want to be your boy...meaning i get the match thing and know you are going to date and sort things out..i just want you to think that i am interested in showing you who i am too..a good father, a hard working smart and successful man..but most importantly a fun, big hearted man..who would love to have you on my arm most anywhere.. who love to have you near in the dark of the night and curl your hair with my fingers and gently kiss your lips...so there you have it..the kid is officially interested and not in the usual way...with you it'd be respect all the way and caring..and melting that romantic heart of yours one kiss at a time....so i will chill out and wait for you to sort out the suitors...just remember i am here and willing to tee it up with you....
jack

Sunday you wake up with a bit of a hangover and it’s exacerbating the cold lonely feeling that has encased your home over the past 9 days since you’ve seen or heard from your ex.  All day you field text messages from Jack as well as phone calls from Craig the prison guard, Paul from Sheboygan, and bad-breath Jim.  Your self-esteem is up where it should be thanks to all this attention, but your mood is six feet under.  You realize it has been one full week since you posted your profile on Match.com.  Your profile views have topped 700 and you’ve made 96 “connections.”  You should be elated.  Why can’t you enjoy yourself and be happy with any of these men who obviously like you and want to see more of you?  Why are you pining away after someone who, when you get right down to it, treated you like dirt?  You begin to wonder if there is something seriously wrong with your head. You reach out to your true-bluest girlfriends who can be counted on to remind you your ex was scum, but not one of them is home.  Finally, you turn off your phone, sign off your computer and head for bed. You make a mental note to schedule an appointment with your therapist first thing Monday morning…