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Dating Diary

June 27, 2008: happy ever after

Linda Franklin

Our Internet dating blogger, Linda Franklin, finally finds what she's been looking for

'Make sure you look after your brother,' I told my eldest. 'You've gott my mobile - stay in touch!'

'We'll be fine, mum,' he replied, looking up from the fry up he was doing for both of them and his girlfriend and he was smiling his lovely smile. 'Have a great time!'

'Don't forget to feed the cats!'

'Course! Off you go, enjoy yourself!'

It was me who was reluctant to leave the cosy, family feel of my home and I watched Meg, my white tortoiseshell kitten hurtle through the long grass of the garden as she chased butterflies. But the car was waiting and my weekend bag was packed and I was off to see Martin for the weekend in his house in the Downs.

We drew up at an old farmhouse and Martin was there, in jeans and shirt, smiling his twinkly welcome. 'Coffee's on, come inside.'

The house smelt of coffee and the beautiful fragrance of the Tocca candles that were burning in every room. He'd completely redone the place inside, opening up spaces and giving a cool, funky modern feel to it. It was very stylish.

There was none of the clutter of my house, filled with the boys and their friends and the cats and my books so on. This was altogether different: it was serious and grown up. After I'd gone round all the rooms admiring them, I suddenly felt as if I didn't know what to do.

He led me by the hand into the kitchen where he was warming croissants to go with the coffee and orange juice as a late brunch. 'I thought we'd go for a long walk afterwards and have an early dinner at the pub - and then just see what we feel like doing,' he smiled at me.

'Sounds good,' I said.

And while he was pouring the coffee I heard the bell of my mobile and I heard him tut slightly: 'Got a text,' I said. 'Sorry, might be one of the boys.'

'But it was from Ewan: 'Is the name of the house Manderley? Ha ha! Just found a gr8 apartment overlooking the sea with my own dressing room, yours, Lord Muck!'

I smiled and Martin looked enquiring. I said: 'Just Ewan messing around.'

'Your gay friend, right?'

'My best friend,' I said. But he didn't seem to want to know anything about him and there was silence. My message bell dinged again.

'Had to tell, sorry for interrupting ur love nest, but Nelson and I just bumped into his ex and she was talking to us for five mins and she had a bogey on her nose!!!!!! Ain't life sweet?'

I laughed again and Nelson said: 'Another wacky friend of yours?'

And I didn't bother to say what I'd been laughing about.

And then the message bell rang a third time. It was my youngest - all of sixteen I have to say - sending a picture of the cats: 'We luvs ya, innit!' was the message.

'Might be best if you turned that off.' suggested Martin.

And I could see what he meant. I can. And yet...

'I want to be alone,' I blurted out.

'Very Garbo!' he said and chuckled.

'No really, I do.' I said. 'It's only just come to me. I don't mean alone alone. I mean not tied to anyone else. Not being someone else's someone. I don't want to be spoken for.

I want to be free. My own person. I've realise I've reached a point in my life where I'm happy with how it is: I want to have odd friends and mess around with my kids in my own home and not have to worry about someone else or answer to anyone else. I want to go to bed with a glass of wine at 11 or wake up at five and read with a hot chocolate. I want to be a slut in my own home if I choose or see or be with anyone I want without having to take anyone else into account. I want to be free to write when it suits me. I've reached a point of no return. I've been looking for something - but I see now I have it all, already.'

And that's how it is.

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Reader comments

It's funny, isn't it? I have just come to the same conclusion. I sometimes feel lonely for something but what it is I am not sure. But i do know that I don't want to have to make huge compromises to accommodate a man in my life. I don't want to have gold trophies in the living room, I don't want a sweaty man in my bed and I don't want to have to account for the money i spend ever again. Perhaps I just need some arm candy for when I go out to the theatre or a concert. Well, at least it is becoming clearer what i don't want!

Posted by: L Hart | 03/07/2008 21:46:30


 

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