I recently started dating this really sweet guy. We have a lot in common: We’re both writers; we’re the same age; we both hate being outside. But there’s one fundamental difference: He has an Android, and I have an iPhone. At first, I didn’t think it was that big of a deal. Sure, green texts are heinous, but I was willing to make that sacrifice. I figured, if we did end up together, we could raise our kids with both options, and when they were old enough they could make their own decisions about the phone they most identified with. But in the weeks that followed, it became more of an issue than I expected.

I was visiting my parents upstate for the weekend, and was surprised to admit that I missed the writer. I decided to go out on a limb, into uncharted emotional territory, and send him an “I miss you” text. Four hours later, when he hadn’t replied, I started to panic. My parents live in the middle of the woods, with bad service, but thanks to his Android From Hell there was no way to tell if he was playing hard to get, straight-up ghosting me, or if the text just hadn’t delivered. To quote @TheFatJewish, “Are green texts even getting to people?! It’s like throwing a message in a fucking bottle into the ocean.” I bit my nails until they bled, weighing over the risk of double texting. It was then that I knew: Green texts just cause too much unnecessary anxiety. It could never work.

It used to be that, when you started dating someone, you assessed the fundamentals of human compatibility: Do you want to have kids one day? Are you religious? Brooklyn or Manhattan? But today it’s: Are you the sort of person who talks to Siri in public? Because that’s a deal breaker for me. Sure, it’s romantic to think that opposites attract and love is blind or whatever, but I’m sorry, I just can’t accept that my soul mate would wear an Apple watch. It makes you wonder: In the modern world, where our phones have become an extension of ourselves, and our attitude toward technology is inextricable from our personality, is it possible to date someone who you’re not tech compatible with?

Last week, over tea in London, I posed this question to two of my friends, “Calvin,” a 28-year-old art director, and “Jane,” a 33-year-old TV exec (both fake names). “My friend has the same problem as you—she’s dating a guy with an Android,” Jane said, an ominous tone in her voice. “Honestly, it became a real issue in their relationship. But now they only message through WhatsApp, and everything’s fine.”