My Dear Beloved, [for that is who you shall remain to me, for eternity]
As you can no doubt imagine, your untimely departure left a huge void in my life. Whilst there is naught I can do about the heartbreak except allow time to heal my wounds, I thought that I could at least address the extreme loneliness I have felt in your absence.
Furthermore, my dreams of having someone to share my life with did not dissipate with your leaving, and in fact my fantasy was further fueled with a desire to bestow upon my Soulmate, my love, my attention and my affection.
I thought that person would be you. More than anything; my soul, my heart, my body, wanted that person to be you. And despite all circumstance [yours] and indications [mine] to the contrary; my yearning for you lingers in the depths of my wretched soul.
So finally, after much deliberation I joined the dating site … in search of another You. A new You that could love me as intensely as You do. A new You that I could love as purely as I love You. All I wanted was another You, but a You that would stay and choose to be with me.
Within hours of uploading my very verbose profile the messages came flooding in. Despite my very stringent requirements specified, the majority of the applicants were unsuitable, and so the sifting process began.
The married men. Delete.
The separated men. Delete.
The too young boys. Delete.
The very old men. Delete.
The men who couldn’t string a comprehensive sentence together. Delete.
The men who addressed me as Babe, Babes, Baby or Sexy. Delete.
Having filtered through approximately 200 candidates, no more than 50 hopefuls remained and I responded to those communications. Though it must be noted that not one message contained a poem, a quote nor any reference to The Beloved, despite my narrative being littered with Rumisms.
To be honest, it was a painful process; it felt so clinical and my heart definitely wasn’t in it. Despite this, I remained committed to finding my new You. The 50 swiftly decreased to 6; obliterating any men who didn’t share my values, who belittled my beliefs or who proved to have no sustainable communication skills.
My ruthless slashing left me with:
1. The very charming trauma surgeon residing in another province
2. The unassuming shy IT specialist sharing your name – albeit with different spelling
3. The slightly older and quite naughty orthopedic surgeon
4. The too young IT consultant who made the cut due to his spiritual maturity
5. The world renowned sporting celebrity with huge heart also in a different province
6. The tenacious and very persistent IT professional
[yes, I also found the multitude of IT guys quite bizarre]
So with the list whittled to a more manageable number, I escalated my search to the next level. BBM pins were exchanged and the chatting commenced.