A few years ago I used to lie in bed at night asking to find my ideal guy. I would describe and visualise all the specific attributes I wanted him to have, then release my thoughts to the universe and fall asleep – and then I met Eric….
I stopped in my tracks, riveted by the photo that had appeared about a third of the way down my “matches” on kiss.com, the dating site I had just joined. Thick wavy black hair tumbled down to nearly shoulder-length, layered in a ‘70s style. He was classically good-looking and all-American, clean-shaven with a square cut jaw that had a slight dimple in it. Huge brown eyes gazed up at me and straight, white teeth were visible in a smile.
I clicked on to the next page of matches and started scrolling down, but realised that I wasn’t really concentrating. I wasn’t seeing the faces anymore. I’d lost interest.
I couldn’t stop thinking about the face on the previous page, so I stopped looking and went back and checked him out again. He was even better looking than before. Not only that, but he seemed to have all the prerequisites I’d specified in my profile description, including being 6ft, degree-educated and a non-smoker. Plus, he was seven years older than me: perfect! I couldn’t believe I’d found him, and I’d only intended to browse out of curiosity.
“Hi there,” I wrote. “I’ve just joined kiss.com and your profile appeared in my matches. You look and sound gorgeous – I especially love your hair. It’s just like I’ve asked for someone to be in my profile – like my teen hero David Cassidy!
“I’ve got long blonde hair, green eyes and am slim with feminine features. I am degree-educated and have a weakness for attractive Americans. I hate the British reserve and drinking culture, and all the shaven-headed hairstyles over here.
“I live about 30 miles from London in a county called Buckinghamshire, which is not far from Windsor Castle. I’m planning to tour New England in the fall, so maybe we could correspond and meet up? I hope this e-mail reaches you.”
I put “Hi from a Blonde Bombshell in England” in the subject line and sent the e-mail. Then I moved on to other things, went to bed and forgot all about it….
Until the next morning when I logged in and saw an e-mail back from him.
“Hi back,” he had written equally effusively. “Yes, you reached me and, wow, you are a bombshell. I have a weakness for green eyes.
“Thank you for the nice compliments and let me return them in spades. Beyond just your obvious beauty, I see depth in your eyes – I like that. You actually look like my dream profile too: blonde and pretty and smart.
“I like the idea of meeting up as well. Maybe that seems a bit premature, but I have a feeling about you. Write back and tell me more about yourself…. Eric”
Soon we were exchanging lengthy e-mails on a daily basis. Eric told me he was a musician who taught the guitar, and played in a rock band and a Portuguese wedding band. He lived in a waterfront cottage in Portsmouth, Rhode Island – a family heirloom he was planning to buy from his father. He had two younger sisters called Nanette and Valerie.
I wrote back and told him more about myself – all about my love of North America, and how I’d fallen in love with British Columbia on a university exchange programme and was in the process of emigrating to Canada. I told him I was a journalist who loved writing about social issues; and about my mother who had died of breast cancer 12 years earlier.
Our relationship was dynamite from day one. We expressed and shared our opinions on every subject , and our communication flowed like a river that was going to and from its source.
When one of us said something it sparked a thousand thoughts, feelings and emotions in the other – a need and urgency to reply and receive more in return. Our accents and cultural differences were arousing and intriguing, and we became obsessed by and addicted to each other. No day was complete without sending and receiving that e-mail, and, just as a structure is built upon a foundation, so the foundation of our communication created the basis upon which chemistry and an intense sexual attraction grew and flourished.
Within a few days our e-mails expanded into instant messaging, followed by increasingly intense phone calls that lasted several hours – and still we couldn’t get enough of each other.
Within eight days of meeting Eric, I booked a flight to Boston for a month ahead. Little did I know that I was on my way to meet the guy who was to change the course of my life for ever….