My Google Calendar looks like a game of Tetris that I’m losing. Between client meetings in three different time zones and trying to remember to eat something other than takeout, my social life usually consists of nodding politely at the barista.
I tried the usual apps. You know the ones. You swipe, you match, you say hello, and then... silence. Or worse, you get a "hey" at 2 AM. It felt like a second job where the salary was disappointment. I didn't want a "spark" or a fairytale; I just wanted to know that the person on the other end was actually real and interested in something more than a weekend fling.
That’s when I stumbled onto something different. It wasn't about rapid-fire swiping. It was the Letters feature on latidate.com that actually made me pause.
Instead of a tiny chat bubble that demands an instant, witty comeback, this platform let me write. Like, actually write. I remember sitting with my laptop one Tuesday night, exhausted after a pitch, and seeing Sofia’s profile. She liked architecture and hiking—things I actually care about.
I didn't have to think of a pickup line. I used the Letter feature to tell her about the chaotic project I was working on and asked about the trail in her photo. It felt... intentional. I hit send, closed the laptop, and went to sleep without that anxious need to check my phone every five seconds.
Two days later, I got a notification. It wasn't a one-word reply. It was a full response. She wrote about her own job as a graphic designer, how she decompresses by walking in nature, and she actually answered my questions.
Reading her words, I felt this physical weight lift off my shoulders. The relief wasn't dramatic. It was quiet. It was the realization that I wasn't shouting into the void anymore. Here was a busy, normal human being who was also looking for rhythm and consistency, not just noise.
We’ve been exchanging these letters for a few weeks now. We haven't met yet—our schedules are still a nightmare—but we have a video call planned for Sunday. I’m not saying it’s perfect. I’m nervous about the time difference, and my Spanish is terrible. But for the first time in years, I’m not cynical. I’m just looking forward to Sunday.
