Everything is really created in pairs

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The four days at Parship were more bleak for Nora Zukker than all of her relationship endings in recent years. An experience report.

I had recently burned my fingers on a flighty mind. He left my apartment and me one morning. Or the other way around. The heartache was considerable. I only went outside to buy groceries for a week and then go back to bed the rest of the day. Smoking. Yes, I allowed myself that back then.

End of the line: online dating?

During one of these purchases, Cosma Shiva Hagen smiled from a billboard: Every 11 minutes a single falls in love through Parship. Until that day, I met men on the pedestrian crossing. Or at the counter. Or my best friend's birthday. That has proven itself over the last few years. Except on the pedestrian crossing. I ran into a car there. But on the internet? End of the line: online dating. No thanks. If it hadn't been for the imposing lovesickness against which only occasional sex helped. And so suddenly Parship was an option to test my market value.

Everything happened very quickly at home. After a bottle of red wine, Parship congratulated me on my premium membership. Minimum duration one year. Anonymous, secure and TÜV-tested. Nothing happens except love. That is the promise of the partner agency. Awarded to the best. Multiple. Why not Elite Partner, you ask yourself, seasoned reader? Because I wasn't sure if I was losing level. And that is important at Elite Partner. For academics and singles with class, they say.

So I answered questions like: "Are you more of the winter or summer type?" and characterized me with selection sentences like "I could not exist without my freedom." Parship then recorded the relationship-relevant dimensions my personality in a report. I clearly have more masculine qualities than average. But one hurdle is mine Extreme values. Sometimes introverted. Sometimes extroverted. It won't be easy. But I am average empathic. After all.

About the thirst for love and kissing after oral sex

Masked with a cipher I went off. I clicked through profiles, read wisdom under My mottothat made me shudder. In first place: Some people come into your life like a blessing, others like a lesson. And I waited. Nothing happened for eleven minutes. It was clear. It was also clear that I believed Fraulein Hagen on the billboard. One (s) gave me photos. After one hour. On the motorcycle, on the beach, next to the dog or in front of the houseplant. I quickly became very sad at the sight of people thirsting for love who are sure that a matching algorithm leads them to the person who desires them and will love them forever. Specifically to me.

I got messages that I didn't answer. And I wrote messages that went unanswered. I answered the question if I like kissing after oral sex. I had never talked about that before. Parship made me think it was right to tell a stranger about it. Stop? No, I was hooked. Why? The gods know that.

I had a rule: three messages have to convince me, then I'll share my pictures. This member said goodbye to you. Standard rejection. A rejection also hurts when it comes with a click of the mouse. But it was all the same: If you don't sort out, you won't get any further in the interpersonal jungle.

I had one goal: to meet a man whose photos I didn't want to see beforehand. Blind date. Old school. I have never had. On the third day the time had come. He: a doctor, in his mid-thirties and at least articulate in writing (someone else obviously wrote his messages for him), sat across from me in a bar. What we talked all evening fits on a beer mat. He wasn't shy. He was bored and monosyllabic. But he was beautiful. A scar or a gap in his teeth would have been good for him, since he had noticeably little charisma. And such a scar over his eye would have given him a bit of boldness. But it was enough for me for the hour of just looking at him. We said goodbye and both knew there was nothing more to come.

Baby, get dressed up!

What came next cannot be invented. He called me the next day. We exchanged the telephone number in case we decided otherwise on the way to the appointment. So he called and asked if I would like some more feedback from him. For a next date. I am new to Parship in contrast to him and he is happy to help. I couldn't believe what I was hearing and forgot to hang up. “Going for a drink with friends” is not a hobby, he laughed. A cackling laugh that lifted all of its beauty at that very moment. For the next time he also advises me to dress more sexually. Feelings are unclear parameters. He got going. He uses various social media channels to establish closeness. Facebook is no longer enough and since he no longer expects exclusivity, he has been doing better. Silence. Then he hung up.

I lasted four days. For the rest of the year, Parship only charged my credit card monthly. Every now and then I was asked how I was getting on and they wished me to continue to have a lot of stamina. Someone is waiting for you, did you say. Love is when it fits, did you say.

Dear compassionate reader, please do not think that I am in despair. On the contrary. The four days at Parship were more bleak than all the relationship ends in recent years. But it was good to notice that I am not a case of hardship. More than ever, I have a weakness for flighty minds and really don't long for a relationship where nicknames like "honeydew onions" are arousing. That's right, there is definitely something in between. But you now know about me: mine Extreme values are a hurdle.

This text was first published by thebrander.com - the Swiss online magazine about brands and their makers

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Nora Zukker

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Nora was born in 1986, lives in Urdorf, writes on her prose debut and texts for various literary magazines. At SRF 3, she provides you with stories on a weekly basis - but usually with the stories of other authors: You can hear every Thursday in the reading tinder which book, magazine or blog you should definitely consume.

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