I attended a friend's wedding not so long again and it was a lovely day watching two people close to me declare their love to each other. It was also extremely trying to spend the day as the only single person in the entire room...
Every single conversation revolved around that special someone, usually before branching off to involve babies, career plans and mortgages that could happen because of that special someone. Not much mutual ground for a childless, single unemployed 30-something who rents.
I didn't feel too bad about the renting (especially after hearing the size of some people's mortgage payments), but despite normally feeling perfectly fine about being single I came away feeling disturbingly like a cross between Carrie Bradshaw and an Old Maid and promptly joined OKCupid.
I'm not quite sure what I expected, but seeing so many myriad people who had found love and security reminded even the cynical old me that such things aren't actually fantasy. With visions of greener grass online, I picked a perky screename, found a photo of me smiling and waited to see how things would pan out. Sadly no one online seemed to be on quite the same page...
Messages from bisexual men looking for other men filled my inbox. I removed the picture of me with a pixie cut. Interest from men in their 50s and 60s rolled in. I checked the 29-35 box so many times I developed RSI. Several people enquired after my spiritual needs. I prayed they would leave me alone.
Determined not to be one of those passive women who never seizes the day, I browsed the many men available and added a selection of handsome young things to my favourites list. I read their profiles carefully and messaged several. None bothered to reply. Yet for each interesting man I messaged, an entirely different slightly kinky, invariably creepy man would write to me. It was like a penpal scheme with trainee serial killers. After being told I looked like the kind of girl whose nipples would look good covered in blood, the grass online looked less like lush meadow and more like it had been the victim of a weedkiller accident.
I stopped checking my inbox with anything other than a sense of dread. What lunacy and bad spelling would each new day bring? But I persisted and finally started chatting with a guy who seems engaging and a good laugh. Faith in humanity has been restored. We're going on a first date this week. On Friday the 13th...so keep your fingers crossed for me!