Romantic Proposal

Some people feel that Internet dating is by its very nature unromantic, but I disagree. What I’m about to write may initially convince you that I’m wrong, though you may change your mind by the end.

I’m currently a member of three dating sites, having decided that I was going to approach this thoroughly, and each one is completely different. The most successful one sends me roughly eight or ten matches each and every day, so, over two months, I’ve accumulated the following data:

So, in two months I’ve processed 587 women who meet the criteria I specified (mean average 9.8 per day). In turn I’ve been processed by them, and the end result is one realistically potential partner.

That’s an intense two months, but I am definitely atttracted to the one person who survived the ordeal. We move in completely different circles, so the odds of us meeting other than through the dating website were miniscule. She’s interesting, she’s unusual, she makes me laugh, she’s pretty, she challenges me, she’s interested in similar things but also has her own interests and independence, she listens to what I say, she says what she thinks, she asks me questions that force me to think, she’s fascinated by so many different things, she’s not daunted by my history.

I fret when I don’t hear from her for a while, worried that she’s no longer interested in me, and I long to see her again, though I’m nervous each time before I do. I think I’m falling for her.

Until recently, I was convinced that there was no existence after death. Now, I’m not so sure.

My fiancee died six months ago. Two of her characteristic habits were befriending any and every cat she met in the street, and picking up those plastic loops that hold packs of drink cans together so she could break open the loops to stop creatures getting trapped in them. I never used to do either of these things, but I frequently find myself doing both. That doesn’t worry me.

What concerns me is that I’ve started to wonder whether she is somehow involved. When I change my normal route on a whim and find a plastic loop, did she nudge me somehow so that I would find it? Is she arranging these plastic loops in my path to prompt me to think of her, to ask what she would think of whatever I’m pondering? She liked cats so much that I wonder whether she’s inside the head of whichever cat I’m stroking.

It’s comforting to think of her continued existence after death, but that doesn’t mean that it happens, and comfort, whether in the form of whimsy or alcohol, can become an unhealthy prop.

It’s all very well telling these stories, but there’s a touch of smug self-satisfaction about people in love. Or perhaps it’s just me. I don’t get ‘romance’. Here’s what I wrote to a friend recently on this very subject:

Romance, as portrayed by marketers and calendars, is a perversion. Buying extortionately priced roses and cramming into a restaurant full of people who only eat out once a year is nonsense. St Valentine’s Day should be like every other day, no more and no less, because every day with a partner should have an element of love in it, whether that’s spending quiet time together, exchanging glances, sharing a private joke, holding hands, laughing, teasing, cuddling, saying “I love you”, giving a surprise little gift, writing a note, drawing a picture, massaging, pampering or whatever. I don’t mean this in a sickly way, but in fun, enjoyable ways so that you both remember why you’re together in the first place.

I don’t want someone who expects roses. I want a best friend.

My sister is only 27 but she has been proposed to 3 times, she’s like a ballet dancer only she always says yes. She says that whenever you love someone you should love them fully and completely, no questions.

I have a lovely friend with a kind and gentle heart. I have only known him for about six weeks, but yesterday he gave me the best present anyone has ever given me – a flight in a big green balloon through a warm and hazy September sky.

Afterwards, one of our fellow passengers was asking me if I had enjoyed the flight, and I told her that I loved it and that it was a wonderful surprise. She asked if it was my birthday and I said no, it was just a surprise. “How romantic”, she said.

I’ve known my partner for 7 years, but we’ve only been together for just over 2years.

Its strange to look back at the time before we were together. We were best friends, had loads in common and supported each other through some really tough times in both our lives. Because we were both in other relationships we just didn’t see each other as anything more than just friends. When those relationships broke down we spent lots of time together, being each others shoulder to cry on. After a few too many beers one night we ended up admitting that we quite fancied each other. Then came a couple of weeks of complete confusion and awkward moments, before we decided to see if it would work.

He’s still my best friend and I’m really grateful for what we have together and am excited about seeing what the future brings.

During my travels in Australia I met an Anglophile American who I seemed to instantly click with. She was attractive, intelligent and such wonderful fun that I was rather surprised she was attracted to me at all. We enjoyed our short time together sharing stories and tastes, comparing scars and watching the world. The connection between us felt closer than that I’d had with people I’d know for years, perhaps because we knew our time together was going to be short. On our last night we walked the streets of Sydney kissing each other in the pouring rain before saying a tearful goodbye.

We only spent a few days together before traveling on our own separate ways but the encounter renewed my enthusiasm for experiencing the world and left me feeling good about myself after what had been my lowest point.

My fiance and I have been together since we were both sweet sixteen. We both have a love for what some may call ‘cheesy 80s rock music’ and melodic rock.  But despite some of the intense heartache that some of these songwriters seem to have gone through, there are lines within certain songs that mean a whole lot to us and our relationship together.  So now, nearly thirteen years on (and although we’ve still not yet a set date), we are going through a track list of our lives together, to share with family and friends when our wedding day finally happens. So what I guess I’m trying to say is – whilst we do look back, we are still always looking to making more memories with the music.

I’ve proposed twice, but never married.

The first time should have been at the top of one of the tips on Central Forest Park in Hanley, because that was where we first kissed as the sun rose one July morning. On the evening of the proposal, however, it was pouring with rain, so we stayed in the car in the car park. We both realised afterwards it had been the wrong thing to do, so we separated amicably.

The second proposal was many years later, to a different person in completely different circumstances, but that’s a story for another time.