I was just about to give up on dating sites all together. Tired of the fake profiles and scammers, the messages from people living hundreds of miles away and trying to engage with people only to feel like I’m pulling teeth just trying to have a conversation. One word responses, sudden ghosting after seeming to get on well with someone. It gets tiring.
You paint that smile on your face and try to muster fake enthusiasm. You’ve got to fake it until you make it, right?
The night I first contacted you was one last hail mary before closing my account and accepting my fate as a crazy cat guy, and I don’t even have any cats. Your profile was a little different. It wasn’t a laundry list of unrealistic demands or what you don’t want. You actually wrote a little bit about yourself. I could feel your smile and personality coming through my screen, and I kind of liked it. Humble, down to earth, kind. Thats all I needed.
I tuck the plunge, sending you a silly joke, not genuinely expecting a response, but you surprised me. Oh crap, I thought to myself, she’s actually responded, and it wasn’t with a restraining order. What do I do now? Maybe I should try to be witty again and send her more dad jokes? Maybe I should compliment her on her looks, but what if she thinks I’m only interested in her for her appearance?
Stop it Jon, stop overthinking, just be friendly.
The conversation seemed to flow so naturally. We had little things in common. Similar dark humour, overlapping musical tastes and love of travel. We exchanged our best and worst holiday adventures. She seemed interested in my silly stories like the time I ended up sleeping on a boat in Budapest after refusing to stay in the hotel from hell.
I looked forward to every message you sent me. Before we knew it, hours had past and still we were talking. It felt like I knew you all my life and I began to feel butterflies.
I decided it show my cheeky side with a few flirty double entandres to see if you picked up on it. Not wanting to offend but sometimes you have to take a risk and see if you can build up a little tension. It seemed to go down well. It was like you were a painting by numbers and each conversation added a little bit of depth to you. What I didn’t know, my mind filled in the blanks.
After a couple of days of messaging, we exchanged numbers. A few days later, our first call. Hearing your voice for the first time was thrilling and nervewracking all at the same time. You didn’t sound like I imagined in my head but you had a soft, feminine voice that made my heart beat just that little bit faster.
When you asked me if I would meet you, I did a little victory dance. I’m so glad that nobody could see me at that moment. Play it cool, Jon. You don’t want to scare her off, jumping at the chance like a dog owner thats just come home to his dog with bacon.
Those few days before that date, the butterfly breeding programme in my stomach would have made the Eden Project jealous. What if she doesn’t like me? What if I don’t like her? What if she doesn’t turn up? Even worse, what if she turns out to be a 50 year old bloke called Dave or arrives with duct tape and a spade?
I dared to dream. In my head I was Mr Smooth, the lethario of her dreams, riding in on my Ford Fiesta to sweep her off her feet and ride off into the sunset with that efficient 1l petrol engine.
That morning, I brushed my teeth three times, I tried on 2 shirts and I practiced my opening lines in the mirror. A little bit of hair gel and some cologne later, I was ready to go. I picked up a single red rose and a small box of chocolates on the way. I wanted to show her that I was a gentleman without over doing it. I got on the train, your text came in as you were making your way to the station too.
At this point my palms were starting to sweat. The butterflies were trying to make a run for it out my stomach, like a scene from Aliens. I kept imagining what that moment was going to be like, the first time I saw you. I started singing to myself under my breath to calm my nerves. One more stop.
As the train pulled into the station,my heart began to thud. I looked through the window, waiting for a first glance of the lady that had my heart skipping beats, giddy with excitement. I took one big deep breath and disengaged onto the platform, scanning around to find you.
Then there you were. More stunning than I could ever have imagined. Your smile just melted me as if I were made of wax and your eyes sparkled like moonlight over a pond. I wrapped my arms around you tight. You placed your head on my shoulder. I could smell the perfume on your neck and you could feel my breath on yours.
We walked, and we talked. I got us lost in the shopping centre but you had me lost in your eyes as we held hand and walked together like an old couple. I began to relax. Out came the jokes again and seeing you laugh and smile back made me turn red like a beetroot. I placed my arm on the small of your back as we found a cafe to sit in and I got a drink for us. I presented you with the rose and chocolates I had been carrying in a pink gift bag and you gave me a little peck on the cheek in gratitude.
In some ways we were strangers, but in others it felt the universe had aligned to bring me here to you. It was not chance but fate that brought us together. After 2 hours of talking, your hand fitting in mine like a glove, it was time for me to leave you and get the train back home, but there was just something I had to do. I asked you whether you wanted to see me again, and my relief was palpable when you let out a timid, feminine yes.
I couldn’t leave you without looking into your eyes one last time, starring straight into your soul. Our bodies slowly drawing closer, lifting my palm to your cheek and tenderly stroking your hair from your face. I tilted my head towards you, I closed my eyes and I tasted your cherry flavoured lip gloss for the first time as our lips met. It was warm, it was tender, it was magic. I placed my arms around you, and yours around me. All time stood still. Surrounded by hundreds of people milling around, trying to get to their destinations but they may as well have been statues as for me the only other person in that building at that moment was you.
Our lips somehow knew how to synchronise as I massaged your tongue with mine. All was well with the world. I sensed my train approaching, much to my displeasure, so I squeezed you in my arms tight. I didn’t want to let go, I wanted to take you back with me but as I stepped back onto that train, and blew you a kiss through the closing doors, I knew that was the girl I was meant to be with. My heart equally sung a joyful tune that I had found you and despaired that I was leaving you behind on that platform until I could next see you again.
