Monday, 17 August 2009


Before I go any further let me just say that I do not believe in it and neither do I want perfection. I write about it because I experienced its stereotype last night but my first encounter with him had been the previous night. He was an amazing dancer, good looking, tall enough for me – at 5’3”, six foot is my absolute minimum for a guy, at 32 five years my senior (as a very young looking, and modest, 27 year old I tend to get chatted up by 23 year olds in pink jumpers - my idea of hell) and interested enough to ask for my number. And to call me – twice – when I got in that night. It was at this point I began to get worried. Actually that’s a lie, I had begun to get worried when he’d said, “I’ve met you, and you’ve met me. I’m single, you’re single…” that was a bit too much for me two hours into our ‘relationship’.

Anyway as a result of being intoxicated he didn’t have much to say during either phone conversations and I began to think he might be stupid. So the next evening as I set off for what transpired to be Chinese take away at his I was worried I was going to have to keep my mouth shut for fear he might see my brain.

I was however pleasantly surprised. Conversation flowed, he was very obviously not stupid, maybe not as witty as me but then very few people are! He was polite and attentive. His flat was nice; he had a reassuringly beautiful mirror in his living room, which I neglected to compliment him on so I doubt he is referring to me ‘polite and attentive’ but there you go. He owns two properties, drives, has invested in shares (that fact helped with my 'stupid' worries), gets on with his sibling and parents, and has a nice job. He even managed a few jokes and had a go at winding me up.

You see the list of his pros is endless! Most crucially though I got the feeling that he wants a relationship, he wants a girlfriend, he is ready to ‘settle down’. Only problem is I want the exact opposite of that. I want someone who doesn’t want a girlfriend. I want someone who wants me. One of the very first things he asked me, just after he asked if I was single, was “do you drive?” and I knew instantly he was checking out my ‘girlfriend potential’. He was sizing up how practical – and therefore how worthwhile – following up this lead was going to be. And I don’t want practical, I want real. I want something that’s worth isn’t measured up by its practicality or convenience. If this is beginning to sound romantic than forgive me because that is not my intention, I am not a romantic. It’s just that I am not going to fit into someone’s ‘girlfriend mould’. I think, as far as he is concerned, the picture I cut in his mould isn’t looking too bad at the moment. As we cuddled up and watched a DVD its fair to say I fit the sofa, I fit into his arms…as far as he’s probably concerned so far I fit!

Me fitting or not fitting isn’t really the issue here though because even though he ticks so many boxes its untrue, I am not looking to fill a 'boyfriend' mould. As good as he sounds on paper he does not have multiple stab wounds, does not sleep with a hammer by his bed and did not argue with me on our first date (yes these are all men I have actually dated). And this is why I don’t believe in perfection; because as much as those examples may sound like nightmares to most people, those men all had other things about them that got me interested and made me willing to overlook their arguably unsavoury attributes. I guess its called chemistry. Perfection is overrated, if at all it exists.

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