We all remember 2020 well. It felt like a year that would never end, and it’s hard to believe it’s been over four years since. Like I said before, I was determined to make the most of this year. In January, I signed back up for all the dating apps after taking a 6-8 month break. It felt like a fresh start.
But, like before, I had a hard time getting matches. I’d already gone a few weeks without matching with anyone, and it wasn’t the best start to the year. One evening in February, sitting on my couch, I was doing my daily swiping on Bumble. I can see some of you who don’t know us thinking, “No! They didn’t meet on a dating app, did they?” Well, we did. But hold on—the best part of the story isn’t how we met.
Something my close friends knew about me was that I was pretty particular about who I swiped on. I remember rapidly swiping left on profiles—no one seemed like a good fit. Then I came across one profile that made me stop and take a closer look. I remember reading it multiple times and scrolling through the photos over and over. I don’t remember much about what the profile said, except for a mention of an author I knew nothing about. Later, I told my friend, who reads a lot, and he said, “She’s like the female version of me.”
Anyway, after spending more time on her profile than anyone else’s, I swiped right. Usually, nothing happens when I do that. Even if I spend a lot of time on someone’s profile, it doesn’t mean they swiped right on me. Most of the time, I never saw them again. But this time was different. As soon as I swiped right, I saw the message on the screen: “It’s a match!” That meant she had already seen my profile and liked me. I muttered under my breath, “No way!” Now I had to wait, because Bumble requires women to send the first message. And in the past, the few matches I had usually let the time limit expire, unless I paid Bumble to extend it. But I figured, if they didn’t care to talk to me, why would I pay to prolong the silence? That never made sense to me.
I didn’t have to worry about the time limit. Soon after, Leanne sent me a message. She told me she found my profile interesting, but the most surprising part was that I was from LaHarpe, Illinois. She was from Roseville, Illinois. At the time, I was living in Carmel, Indiana, about 290 miles from my hometown. She was living in Noblesville, Indiana, about 270 miles from hers. We were only 10 miles apart when we matched but had grown up just 29 miles from each other. I knew Roseville well, having played basketball and run track there, and even watched a few volleyball games at their school.
After exchanging a few messages, we agreed to meet at Starbucks. It was a pretty informal meeting, likely in the morning, and we mostly talked about things back near our hometowns—like Casey’s pizza, Maid-Rite, and people we might know in common. One thing we tried to figure out was whether we had crossed paths before. We were certainly close but didn’t think we had met. She would have been a freshman when I was a senior, and although I played basketball through sophomore year, the age gap likely kept us from being at the same events.
Our second date felt more like a first. We met at a restaurant in the Carmel Arts District called Muldoon’s. It was late February, and COVID was becoming a real concern. People were already talking about “flattening the curve.” Muldoon’s wasn’t too busy, probably because of the COVID scare, and I remember arriving much earlier than Leanne.
Since we’d already covered a lot about our hometowns, I wanted to learn more about her life after Roseville. Generally, I’m not much of a conversationalist—I never know what questions to ask. After running through the ones I had in mind, I was stuck, so the conversation drifted back to our hometowns. It was easier since we had that in common.
We planned a third date the following week at Portillo’s, but that never happened. COVID was starting to get scary. I had just been to Meijer the day before the announcement to shut everything down. It was chaotic—people were buying up everything. Luckily, I had bought a massive pack of toilet paper the week before, so I was set. But I still needed hand soap. All of it was sold out, but I knew something others didn’t: the automotive department sold large pump containers of pumice soap for mechanics. I bought two.
Instead of going to Portillo’s, I suggested that Leanne come over to my place to watch a movie. She agreed. When she arrived, I joked about taking her temperature before letting her in. We ended up getting food from the drive-thru at Freddy’s and watched the classic date-night rom-com Ford vs. Ferrari.
The next day, the shutdown began. My office shifted to working from home, but some of us still went in occasionally. I remember visiting the local mall, where the common areas were open, but all the stores were closed. I took a series of photos of the closed signs. Leanne and I realized we might have to put things on hold for much longer than expected. She suggested we hold off on seeing each other to help do our part. Looking back, we would have been perfectly fine, but at the time, we were cautious.
For the next two months, we stayed in touch through simple text messages. I would go for a morning jog and send her a message asking how she and her family were doing. But, as I’ve said, I’m not much of a conversationalist, so things went stale. I wasn’t sure if there was a future for us. I take a while to open up, and with the lockdown, we hadn’t had enough time to really get to know each other.
The lockdown dragged on longer than anyone expected. During this time, I had a work project that required travel to New Jersey, Los Angeles, Miami, and Atlanta for a photography project. Initially, I planned to take a couple of extra days in New York or LA for myself, but with everything shut down, I didn’t. We were worried about getting back from New Jersey, but flying during that time was a breeze—no middle seats and very few people. Still, COVID managed to ruin things.
One night in Newark, New Jersey, we set out to get some shots of the New York skyline, but the fog was so thick, it completely blacked out the entire city. It was eerie. Even a local who had lived there for 20 years said he had never seen fog that thick. So, no photos of the skyline that night—thanks, COVID.
I thought about reaching back out to Leanne, but with her concern for her parents and the ongoing travel restrictions, it didn’t seem like the right time. I was getting frequent COVID tests due to work travel, and quarantining for two weeks when returning made it nearly impossible for us to see each other.
2020 ended as a bust, and I celebrated my 40th birthday in my garage with my parents, sitting across from each other because I’d been exposed to COVID. It definitely wasn’t my year. Maybe 2021 would be better.
By the start of 2021, I had two more flights for the photography project, bringing the total to 14 during the height of COVID. I was so tired of wearing a mask all day in airports and planes.
As 2021 went on, Leanne became more of a distant memory. We hadn’t spoken in over a year. I started hanging out with my friend Adam again and had mostly given up on dating apps. 2020 had worn me down, and by 2021, I wasn’t interested in forcing anything. If it was meant to happen, it would.
In late July or early August of 2021, Adam and I went to Barnes & Noble. I’m not sure how strict things were with COVID by then—I don’t remember if masks were required—but I feel like they were at least suggested. While browsing the discounted book aisle, I thought I saw someone familiar down one of the aisles. We didn’t make eye contact, and I couldn’t tell for sure, but I thought it might be Leanne. She grabbed her books, checked out, and left. I told Adam, “Remember that girl I went on a few dates with from my hometown? I think I just saw her.”
But, true to form, I didn’t do anything about it. If something was going to happen, it would. Less than 48 hours later, I got a text from Leanne: “Hey Dustin, it’s Leanne. Remember me from Roseville?” It was her! I messaged Adam, saying it must have been her at Barnes & Noble, because she’d just reached out. We made plans to go to Crafter’s Pizza, just down the road from me.
Again, I got there before Leanne and waited outside. After we sat down, I asked her if it had been her in Barnes & Noble. It wasn’t. She hadn’t been there recently. It was just a coincidence. And that’s when I knew—this was God’s plan all along. What are the chances? We hadn’t talked in over a year, I thought I saw her, and then, less than two days later, she texted me.
The world is a strange place. I always knew something big was planned for my 40th year; I just didn’t know what it was. It wasn’t until after all of this that Leanne and I started getting serious. And the rest is history.
We re-connected in August of 2021, she met my parents early in November. I met her parents at Thanksgiving. We were able to split Thanksgiving and Christmas between both of our parents since they lived 25 minutes apart from each other. 2021 started as a fizzle but ended with a bang. 2022 will be much more predictable and a much smoother ride, right?