Dear diary

'Dear diary,

It just occurred to me that I'm 26 and still do the 'dear diary' crap. Is this one of the reasons why I've been on five first dates this month?

Are you the harbinger of my doom?

I know, it's not always me, sometimes it's actually them, but more often then not I'm the one being left on 'read' the day after.

Why? Is it because I'm slightly childish?

Or because I don't care about what kind of work they do, or even what I do, for that matter?

I've been on dates with lawyers, accountants or doctors who were offended that I wasn't impressed by their professional path.

And it's not that I'm not. I do find it impressive, I mean, I could never do that myself. I can't take away from the amount of hard work and studies that they needed to achieve their success. But for me, a job is a job. It doesn't define anyone as a person. What people choose to do in their own free time, that's what I find interesting and the most telling of a person's character.'

The woman put her pen down and reached for the wine glass that up until now was sitting idly on the table. She sighed and filled it almost up to the brim with Merlot.

Being alone has its advantages, like there's no need to follow the proper wine to glass ratio. She took a sip, savouring the taste. A slight moan of satisfaction escaped her mouth.

She's made a point of not drinking on dates. As a woman of a very slight build, she can't hold her drink very well and gets light-headed easily. Not drinking makes it safe for her not to be taken advantage of. Some men were visibly upset about her choice to stay sober which only strengthened her resolution.

She took a few more sips and the pen was back in her hand.

'Today's date was okay. I think' she wrote. 'At least as good as it can be considering we've met via a dating app. I know, I've said it a million times that I hate dating apps. I don't like that it implicates that we're both looking for someone romantically. Those feelings or intentions should develop at their own, natural pace. But what's a girl to do if there's no other way of meeting new people?

I would never date anyone I work with, no matter how good a banter we have together. Those two don't mix very well.

Sometimes my friends introduce me to somebody they know, but again, the implications of it being a 'potential relationship' are there.'

Another sip of wine followed those lines and then the young woman stared off to space, fantasising.

'What's the dream?

What's the perfect way of meeting someone?

Some people claim that once you stop looking, then surely you will find your one and only. But how do you it consciously? If I say 'okay, I'm done now, I can stop searching', all I'm going to do is anticipate it even more. Thinking that any moment now and my prince charming will enter the stage.

Let's see where my imagination carries me.

Let's see.'

The wine glass now empty, got refilled with the rest of Merlot. After taking a solid gulp of wine, she got to work on her fantasy. The perfect date.

'My perfect date would be no date at all. What I'd like is an immediate connection that can't be faked and that both parties involved can feel and interpret correctly.

I've always wanted to go to a place completely foreign to me. Somewhere where I would know almost no one and no one would know me.

What if I took that step?

Let's live this life for a while:

I've got my life packed in two suitcases, a friend picks me up from the airport and tells me he found a place for me to stay until I get myself sorted with a job and my own apartment. My friend has a friend who just happens to have an empty room and doesn't mind helping.

Great.

It is nerve-racking, obviously, but well, what's the worst that can happen? The 'nice guy' turns out not to be a nice guy and you're essentially alone, with only one friend in the whole country, who lives in a different city at that?

But well, I take the risk.

I meet him in front of his house, my friend introduces us to each other. The guy makes spaghetti for dinner and we all eat.

The conversation flows freely. I'm surprised because it's not an easy feat for me to feel so relaxed, so at home, with a person I've barely just met.

On the next day he goes off to work, and I and my friend leave to get myself signed up with the job agency and to start apartment hunting.

Once we're back at that guy's house, we talk and we talk and we talk. He cooks dinner for the three of us and it's one of the most delicious things I've ever eaten in my entire life.

Then the weekend comes. I'm still searching for my place to stay and a job, but there's no rush, he says. It's alright, things like this take time.

We end up talking all night. It's so easy, so natural.

I discover that the whole easygoing vibe he gives off is just a facade to mask his own unhappiness. It doesn't sit right with me. Scratch that, 'doesn't sit right' doesn't express what I want to say. I find myself wanting to do everything and anything to make him happy. I want this easygoingness to be true, not just a mask.

Finally, we both realise that the sun has risen and maybe we should have some sleep. We both head for our rooms and call it a day.

The next night is a repeat of that. The conversation doesn't stop. It's so amazing to be able to be this open with another soul.

It's almost three in the morning and he makes me a cup of hot cocoa just because I mention in passing that I love it. He even throws in some marshmallows. And my heart melts just as they do.

We've only known each other for five days, but, sitting at some fast food place, he tells me that he's going to text me but I can't read it until we're both in our rooms. I say okay and sit awkwardly, racking my brain what is it he's writing. He's taking his sweet time as my mind races, trying not to create too good scenarios to avoid disappointment.

If I could, I'd run to my room just about now. I can't wait to read it.

And it proves to be even better than I have ever imagined.

He wrote that I'm a woman he's always dreamt about. There's so much love and anxiety stuffed in a text message, and I can't believe it. And I know that I feel exactly the same way.

That's how love should happen in my opinion. Not masquerades, no pretending to be someone you're not or trying to impress with everything.

I want someone to lay their heart bare to me so that I could do the same in return.

In an ideal world, six years from that message we would be engaged, with two wonderful, spoiled cats and more love than I could ever imagine.

I want to live in this perfect world.'