I’m single, and looking for love. I’ve tried the night out clubbing thing, and decided it’s not for me. Generally you meet people who want sex, not love. And as I’m not really a clubber, why would I want to meet somebody who could potentially be into clubbing a lot?
I don’t want to meet anyone at work; it’s never good to mix work and pleasure. Exciting, yes. But not a smart thing to do.
So what does that leave? Tesco?! Do I really hope to find love there? Maybe brushing fingers with a suitable single man as we both reach for the last Meal for One? I really don’t see that happening any time soon!
I decided some time ago to enter the ever-so-surreal world of online dating. And since that decision was made, I’ve tried quite a few different sites – which often feature a lot of the same people – and met quite a few weird and wonderful men.
One in particular stands out. We first started talking about a year ago, and we hit it off straight away. We instant messaged, moved on to texting, and then to phone calls. It was a great time for both of us; we got on so well. The only thing wrong was that he lived too far away for a relationship to really be practical. We both knew it, talked about it, but still kept chatting, none the less.
One of the things we started chatting about more and more was meeting up for a weekend. We were both single so there seemed no harm in it. Eventually we planned a weekend in London together. He booked the hotel, we both got the train there and met at the station. And it was perfect. He was such a gentleman; he treated me like a princess all weekend, held doors for me, looked after me on the tube (I love the tube, and would have been fine on my own, but it made me feel special having him take care of me), he took me to a lovely restaurant for dinner, we went to the cinema, then after we walked through Leicester Square. It was November, so the Christmas lights were up, and it was truly magical. Not once during the whole evening was he not touching me in some way: holding my hand, arm around me, arms linked. I’d never felt so complete before. And haven’t since.
He is the benchmark I measure all first dates against, which is crazy as I know none will measure up.
The thing is though, I worry that the fact that I have done it makes me look desperate. And like a slut. I knew we didn’t have a future, but we got on so well and I wanted to feel special for a while. I don’t tell that many people about that, and a few other things I’ve done over the last two years. Scared of being judged I guess, which is something I think about a lot.
I told a very good friend about this last night, and his response surprised me. And made me think about it in a completely different way:
“Wow that sounds amazing. Didn’t you see him again? Your life sounds really cool to me. Really different and exciting – you are not afraid to take risks especially with your love life and that’s amazing to me.”
Since I received the above text I can’t stop thinking about it. Do I judge myself too harshly? Am I too self-critical? I worry so much about judging others; maybe I should cut myself some slack.
(Just in case you were wondering, I didn’t see him again. It was what it was, one fantastic weekend, and I’ll never regret it. We keep in touch by email – just as friends. Neither of us wants to let go completely, but we both know this is how it is.)