On a hot night last July, I walked into a bar appropriately named Loves Me Not, expecting my first date not to show up. We’d made plans to meet here, more than a week prior, but when I opened dating app Hinge earlier that day to confirm, our conversation was missing. Though grabbing a drink with Andrew was on my calendar, my list of matches no longer included anyone by that name.

Had he unmatched me as a way of cancelling? Or was it some kind of technical goof, and he was still planning to show up? Or had I simply imagined those plans, like a mirage in a wasteland where follow-through and basic human decency are scarce? In such a climate, it’s easy to get thirsty.

Washington Post