Gone Fishing

Being the dreamer that I am, I like for things to happen as if they were meant to be. I like those chance encounters, those once in a lifetime moments when the planets align themselves just so and Fate works her magic.

But what do you when Ms. Fate appears to have gone on strike? After two months of break-ups and make-ups with T, I felt like something had to change. I wasn't happy and I was pretty sure he wasn't either. My neurotic behaviour was no longer amusing. It was just plain irritating, but I knew we would keep going through the on-again, off-again routine if something didn't change.
Since Ms. Fate was proving useless, I decided it was time to take matters into my own hands.

And late one night in mid-December, I found myself doing just that. I sat down with my laptop intent on finding myself a new job or some other means of broadening my horizons. Since my affair seemed doomed and my career wasn't faring much better, I felt I needed to find something to bring back my enthusiasm. But as I searched through various job sites and education programs, my optimism faded as I was constantly reminded of my limited funds and my even-more-limited schedule. Eventually I found myself wandering in a different direction.

Over the last two years, I had heard so much about the world of on-line dating through the blogs I had read, but truthfully never considered them. I hated the idea of ticking boxes; it all seemed so forced and unnatural. Plus, it felt so crass. I knew I was basically looking for an adulterous shag, but I didn't want animated images of twenty-something girls shaking their breasts as I filled out my profile. There had to be a more tasteful way of doing things.

And after a bit more hunting, I found a site dedicated to the likes of me - married and bored. I soon set up a profile and with a few tips that I have learned from the blogsphere (Master Riff, to be exact), I was well on my way to finding myself the perfect affair. Within minutes the cyber winks and nudges began to make their way to my laptop. As many bloggers have already touted, women reign supreme in the world of on-line dating. But it doesn't hurt to be a tall, blue-eyed blonde either.

Perhaps it is me being naïve or maybe I just got lucky because the guys who contacted me were perfect gentlemen. Well, maybe not quite perfect but at least they didn't dive right in with questions about sex or whether I could meet them that evening. And not one of them sent me a cock shot! My faith in mankind had been restored. For the most part, my inbox was a stack of fairly well-written and witty messages querying how I had found myself in the world of adultery and what was I looking for in a potential suitor.

And that made me laugh. I had never really thought about it. My relationship with T had come about because I liked his writing and I wanted to know the guy behind the blog. I hadn't really thought about what he would be like in real life but fortunately Ms. Fate was in a good mood that week because T was even better in person. But given that the first candidate was five inches shorter than me and had a moustache, I could tell that I wasn't going to be quite as lucky this time around. So with a page full of tick boxes in front of me, I started the process of defining what I was after. Within minutes, the page was complete and I clicked the 'Search' button. I had ticked my way to Mr. Right...

Or so I thought.

My search came back with nothing. Zero. Zilch. Zip. Not one single profile fit my criteria. Instead of a list of guys ready to rock my world, there was a polite message telling me I was being too picky and that I needed to expand my criteria a bit more.

And so I did.

And this time when I clicked 'Search', a list of candidates came back. One by one, I read their profiles and thought 'he might work' or 'he's a possibility' and promised to peek at just one more. But one more became a dozen more. And a dozen more after that. By the end of the night, I probably had read every profile of every man on this side of London over the age of 40. They were professional, they were educated, they were attractive, witty, intelligent, athletic, French, Italian... anything and everything a woman could want.

Except I didn't want any of them. I responded to a few emails politely but couldn't bring myself to take it any further. It all felt so forced and I had realised what I wanted didn't exist. My first unsuccessful search was Mr. Right and he was nowhere to be found. And I knew why.

The guy I was after had to be over 6'4" with hair that I could run my fingers through. He had to have a sense of humour but also know that hex isn't just something witch's do. Intelligent and well-read were also essential qualities - if he couldn't match me intellectually then he certainly wouldn't be allowed near my knickers. And he had to appreciate my ass, my legs, my love of shoes and my fascination with anal sex. But truthfully I couldn't think of any guy going anywhere near my delicate bits without a smile that was definitely naughty, but trustworthy too.

I soon realised that it was T that I was after, but with a few modifications. This T would live 30 miles away instead of 300 so that we could see each other all of the time. He wouldn't disappear on weekends and school holidays and he certainly wouldn't forget to call. But the best part is that he would know nothing of my struggles to make sense of my marriage or my neurotic tendency to run when I get overwhelmed. And he would have a clean slate too. There would be no S and the story of how he had loved her so, no reason for me to convince myself that I was just there to fill the void.

Once it became obvious what I was looking for, I knew that I couldn't possibly find it. I had gotten as close to perfect as Ms. Fate was going to allow and I had chosen to let it go. Rather than creating an even bigger mess, I decided to give infidelity a rest and let Ms. Fate take a well-deserved holiday. I stared at my profile one last time and smiled at what I had learned. I had seen enough to know that I could have another affair if I wanted one, but there was really only one that I wanted.
So I deleted my account and signed up for a writing class instead.

Cate xxx