She had been on the dating apps for three years, and she had learned to play the game well. She knew which photos got the most likes, which bios attracted the most matches, which opening lines sparked the most conversations. She had curated her profile to perfection, presenting a version of herself that was confident, adventurous, and effortlessly attractive. She had mastered the art of the witty reply, the perfectly timed response, the subtle hint of interest that kept men engaged without revealing too much. She was good at dating, or at least she was good at getting attention.

But somewhere along the way, the attention had become the point. She was no longer looking for a relationship. She was looking for validation. She wanted to know that she was desirable, that she was attractive, that she was worthy of being wanted. The matches, the messages, the likes, the compliments, they all fed a hunger that could never be satisfied. She would swipe through profiles, collecting matches like trophies, feeling a rush of excitement every time her phone buzzed with a new notification. But the rush was fleeting. The satisfaction was temporary. The hunger always returned, stronger than before.