I read an article recently about a female writer who was really dejected about love. She had just broken up with her fella and wondering where it all went wrong, would she have it again etc and then she decided she needed a break. Her Aunt and Uncle had always been nagging her to visit them in some distant exotic place and she concluded that now was THE time for her to do that. She needed to get away, to eat, pray and to find love. So off she went down to the travel agents, booked her ticket, left the UK on a rainy day, turned her back on her heartache and looked ahead to her break…..
Ok, I’m going to pause her story right there a second, I knew the way these went. She got on her plane, got stranded at some disused airport feeling worse than ever, spent hours trying to get someone to help her with her shaky understanding of the language and her tatty guidebook, had no luck, trudged dejectedly back to the disused airport to await the one day a week when it was in use. There waiting on the solitary bench was a Brad Pitt lookalike called Jake, a teacher, teaching poor children in the country, who was trying to get home to renew his visa so he could come back and do some good with his life. Over a warm can of cola (his) they realised they had so much in common and while they shared a Kit-Kat chunky(hers),on a sugar high, they fell in love. Fast forward three years to where she is emailing her story to the magazine from their cosy home, their wedding picture beside her laptop. She ends her email with ‘in the last place I expected, love found me’
Was that the way the article continued? Hell no.
She went on to say she had an easy flight arrived on time, with ALL her luggage, and spent an adorable few weeks witnessing her ancient aunt and uncle holding hands, secretly smiling at each other and basically being in love. She ended her article with ‘in the last place I expected, I saw love and I believed in it’.
Was she kidding me??
I re-read the article. Where was Jake? Where was the disrupted flight? Where was the warm cola? Where was my happy ending?? I was a bit mad. I may, (may) have swore, I may(may) even have thrown the magazine across the room, I cannot be expected to recall all the details right now, but the fact remained I felt cheated. With her cutesy story she cheated me and every other single girl out there out of love. We all KNOW love is there, we all KNOW it can happen at any moment and we are ALL just waiting for our turn. We don’t want to be told about someone else, we want to know about YOU. We want to know when it happened to you, how it happened to you and why it happened to you, because mostly if it happened to YOU, it could happen to US. We are then, by association, in love too! And nothing makes single gals chink their cosmopolitans together more delightedly than knowing they are one step closer to love (and one step further away from being the hairy chinned spinster at future family parties!!)
I appreciate it was a heart warming tale but I cannot forgive the writer for it. Single girls want to hear about missed planes, fate, romantic settings, Brad Pitt lookalikes, falling in love and Kit-Kat Chunky’s.
Please give us what we want for the love of God and that is hope, hope that one day, without proxy, we’ll be in love too 😀