She hated the cafe. It was so full of people. People with great lives, affluent jobs and loving partners. Sometimes they come in with their children.
Children were the worse. She wanted children. But none of her boyfriends wanted to have one with her. They all cheated on her. And she knew she had it coming.
She was the one who was at fault. Something in her was lacking. That’s why her boyfriends looked elsewhere for their pleasure. That’s why her mother severed ties with her. There was something wrong with her.
She looked at the computer screen in front of her. She thought about what will happen when she bust her head into it. Figures nothing will happen, her head is not strong enough.
But she needed to use the internet. She didn’t have one at home, she couldn’t afford it. She needed a job. Antidepressants were expensive and she was broke.
As she logged in, a pop up ad appeared on the bottom of the screen. She closed it. She opened another tab and the ad appeared on the left of screen. She closed it again. This went on for like five six times. Eventually her frustration took over and shouted ‘Why don’t you fucking close down?!’
Everyone in the cafe looked at her in disgust. The small child seemed to be asking his mom what was the f word. She quickly mouthed an apology and resumed her work. The ad was insistent. It appeared again and again. Eventually she stopped closing the ad.
But she couldn’t help but read the ad. As usual it was about dating. Dating she no longer looked for. She hated it now. No one understood her. No one valued her. Must be her blame.
She eventually gave into curiosity and actually read the ad. It was an different kind of dating.
It was for those people who are not happy. Those who find fault in most things, the pessimists. The remorseful. The depressed.
And the website was catchy itself. Depression.com.
She found that there were about 5 million people profiles on the site. Now that got her interest.
She clicked the ad. And looked into the site. It was amazing. She loved it. Full of people who openly admit they are depressed. That they have undergone therapy. They are on drugs. And an expert session on how to date a depressed person.
She signed in. And with new toy, she quickly forgot about her imminent bankruptcy. She went through potential dates. Spoke with a few of them. She loved this.
But she didn’t know. That the site was a perfect playground for predators.
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