So here’s a fun fact… I’ve been single for the good part of 7 years – swaying between hopeless romantic and commitment phobic on a weekly basis. I mean, don’t get me wrong, there have been a “handful” of “persons of interest” who have graced one’s presence over the years, however they have all promptly “exited stage left”; sometimes to my dismay, but mostly with a substantial sigh of relief that I can once again scale back on how much time I spend shaving my legs. Unfortunately, there hasn’t been the ONE who struck me as being someone I’d want to hang out with for the rest of my life, and quite frankly, I don’t think I’d been all to ready for him to come along – hairy legs and John Mayer crush (sad, I know) aside.
I’ve pretty much been resigned to the fact that I would marry most certainly in the later years of my life, in a sensible, cream, linen pant suit purchased on sale from Millers. Tea, scones and little lemon spiced sponge cakes would be served on floral china plates at the appropriate hour of 3pm; handmade lavender soaps, jars of soft jellies and gift certificates for water therapy would don the doily draped gift table. “Gavin”, my antique groom, would be a delightful chap, with the most fine and intriguing knack for sharing a story of his youth with pizzazz and fickle humour. We’ll hold hands, but not purely out of endearment for one another, but moreso offering that all important, and deteriorating, balance – something “young folk” take for granted.
I would be happy with that – marrying in my “mature” years but, I’d be lying if I said that I wouldn’t be disappointed that I didn’t get to meet Gavin sooner and been given the opportunity to grow old and create more memories with him. Thankfully, events of late have prompted me to realise that the only regret you have in your life, is that for which you did not actively pursue. And so, I’ve now accepted the fact that I’ll have to overcome complacency, dip my toe into the pool of possibly and become a willing participant in the search for my true love. But where does one begin?
Being a traditional girl at heart, and probably in some respects a little too “old school” for my generation I’ve always believed and, I guess, assumed that the most appropriate way to possibly meet anyone remotely suitable for an “ever after” was at family barbecues, chance encounters at the coffee shop, the singles table at “Steve & Julies” wedding, or maybe at the park whilst glamorously jogging in slow motion, shiny hair waving behind me – you know, that type of thing. But alas, and much to my dismay, this is not the 1950’s nor is it a blockbuster chick flick (starring me) shot with that really slimming lens Oprah uses… This is real life and we are living in the twenty-first century.
In a strike of luck though, there’s now this all too time stealing, thought sharing, new fangled thing called the Internet! It’s supposedly our best friend (that’s a post for another day!) and much like a shadow is in a one meter radius of one’s being at any given time. It can connect us to billions of other humans at the click of a few buttons, and has the facility to allow humans to interact and get to know one another, without first awkwardly meeting face to face or having to attend to one’s “leg crops”… Maybe this internet thingy is onto something and might be able to aid in my quest for true love – maybe it’s time to get down with the cool kids and bring all the boys to the yard…. Maybe, it’s time to go “on the line”.
Liss Actually x