They Say You'll Find Platitudes When You Stop Looking.

How on Earth does anyone end up with somebody they actually like?  I’m serious, because it seems to me to be a very difficult thing.  In my experience the chances of hooking up with a human being in ownership of sex organs that interlock with your own, one with whom you could spend a large portion of your time without wanting to drown them through sheer boredom, are slim.  Other people do seem to manage it though, I’ve seen them, all smug and happy and paired.  Some of me now looks at these couples with a wistful smile and a newly found sense of appreciation for their happy union, but most of me still thinks, simply, “bastards”.  That’s because I’m yet to manage it myself, not because I have any reason to believe both parties have been born out of wedlock.
Part of the problem, or at least my problem, is Hollywood Romanticism.  I’m shown grand gestures and weather reflected emotion, I’m fed the notion of the perfect match and happy endings, I’m made to feel inferior and flat.  So when confronted with real world love, it’s very easy to feel like you’re doing it wrong, or even that it maybe isn’t the big L at all.  Actually, even before love comes along to make things all messy and complicated, I have a brilliant track record of overdoing things.  Most of the time I just overdo them in my head, which damages no one but me, but occasionally I’ll convince myself that she really wants me to say something, or that she really wants me to do something, or even that although all efforts up to now have proven to be fruitless, the path to success is really paved with constant, grinding, repetitive reminders of my affection.  Clearly, films are to blame, and even though I consider myself a cynical, realistic person, the desire for a romantic meeting that can probably never exist is fervent.
As well as – or because of – this, I am also quite particular.  Other people say fussy, but I think you’re fussy about what type of cheese you like in a toastie or whether you’ll only drink wine out of a glass and not a mug – I don’t feel fussy is the appropriate word when looking for someone to spend your time alive with.  Which is what we’re talking about here.  I’ve never been a one night, bit of fun kind of a guy, I mean, I’ve had those occasions but I always thought they’d be more at the time, and then they weren’t.  So no, not fussy.  Mind you, call it what I may, I do tend to narrow down my options before they’ve even presented themselves.  Thusly, when there is a person I feel is right, when there is a ‘click’ or connection beyond that of the physical, I can get quite attached, to the extent of blocking out anyone else there may be.  Which even I can see is a bit daft.  No one wants to be alone, some people say they’re content and fulfilled single entities and good luck to them, but I don’t see it myself.  However, being seen to be ‘on the prowl’ or as co-dependant tends to be a turn off, so it’s obviously best to just be you and comfortable with that.
Oh wait, no, not that.
That if you’re normal, by which I mean like most people, but otherwise, no.  In most groups – which are the things you’ll find you’ve met most partners in – it’s generally unwise to disagree with the majority, because, well because they’re the majority.  Doing so makes you the minority, and they tend to be unpopular.  Do a quick Google.  See?  They get a rough trot.  As the minority you will be outside the group, known as a dissident, and introduced as ‘the difficult one in the glasses, please just ignore him he mostly just takes the opposite stance on everything and we suspect it’s just for attention.  Or Something.  Be comfortable with yourself, yes, but in tandem with an awareness that most people want you to smile, nod and shut up, and they’ll return the favour when it’s your turn to drone.  You can see how this bit doesn’t sit quite right – coming from a man who, a couple paragraphs up, basically proclaimed himself a romantic – can’t you?  I’m a bit assuming that everyone’s like this, deep inside, under the Jeremy Kyle and Hollyoaks.  I have to so that it feels like I’m not just being slightly mad in public, but perhaps it is just a few of us and our chances of ending up with the correct somebody are lower.

On that cheery note, I think it’s time to shrug and go ‘I dunno’.  It’s unknowable and late, besides, they say that you’ll find love when you least expect it.  Although they also say too many cooks spoil the broth, yet that many hands make light work, so I’m not convinced they know what they’re doing.

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