There is a fatigue that runs through modern dating. I hear it in the way my friends recite the tales of their love lives — half sardonic, half resigned. The same story repeats: the flutters of the first date, the gradual indifference, then the quiet retreat back to the apps.
Dating apps were meant to make romance easier. And, in some ways, they do. The process of “searching for that special someone” is efficient, almost ritualised. Algorithms have taken what was once uncertain and tailored it to the umpteenth degree. And 21st-century society, dutifully as embracive as the Victorians to the Industrial Revolution or the necks of French revolutionaries to the blade of a guillotine, kneels before the altar of progress, unmindful of what it sacrifices upon it.
