To the Christian funk bass player that I fell for on Bumble: Next time, out yourself earlier than three months in! I should have known when, on date five, we made out for an hour at a lounge. It was obvious when I asked you to come back to my place that I wanted to have sex... yet your inner turmoil got the best of you. Still, it didn’t matter. I fell hard. You opened doors, wore boots, had a Texas accent, and you called me. You were the only person I know who loves Kendrick Lamar as much as I do. And then you dropped a bomb: You were playing funk bass at this church. But there was still hope: Later, you asked me over to binge watch Insecure, which I introduced you to, and said I could crash at your place. How dare you get my hopes up, and then, after I straddled you, tell me that you’ve been going to church and you’re celibate? WTF. Next time, write “Christian Funk Bass Player” on your profile.—Anonymous