Reader, he’s perfect. The kind of perfect that has made me question whether the man at the other end of the text messages and typing in the online chat box is indeed a real person.We have sparky banter. It’s both high brow and low brow. In the fortnight since he ‘winked’ at me, we’ve discussed politics and television and our deepest fears and our greatest hopes for the future. I feel like I know him. He’s deep. But he’s funny too. Laugh out loud funny; throwing in cultural references that so many people Just. Wouldn’t. Get. His icebreaker question isn’t: ‘What do you like to do in your spare time?” (bland). But instead, it’s: “Who’s your favourite Guardian writer?” (swoon). His Sunday afternoon activities are things like lunch at galleries and wine on the river at sunset. He’s the perfect number of years older than me (five). He’s lived. And now he’s ready to settle down.
Only… We haven’t met yet. Not in real life anyway.
But today, he finally popped the question: “Meet soon?” he asks, signing off with an adorable ‘x’. It’s the natural next step; taking this relationship to the next level – actually, like, meeting.
I really want to go out with him and see if our sparky chemistry will be recreated in 3D. But there’s a problem. A few days ago, he dropped the bomb I was absolutely dreading. “Do you believe in God?”, he asks somewhat randomly via text. Probably prompted by him sensing the work of the Holy Spirit in me, or something.
Why now, Lord? Could you not have afforded me a little more time living out this virtual fantasy with my very own brooding, but soft-centred Darcy?
“Yes,” I reply, my one-word answer giving little away about the extent to which I love Jesus.
“Are you an atheist?” I ask, with trepidation.
“God, yes,” he replies.
He then reveals just how much of an atheist he is. Which makes me think I’m unlikely to be able to turn him. The tried and tested flirt-and-convert method is not going to shift atheistboy from his well thought-out position on God’s existence.
But the revelation seems only a minor interruption in our flirty-chat and he has proceeded to start planning when and where we can meet up.
I’m torn. My head says BACK AWAY. THIS WILL NEVER WORK. My admittedly unreliable heart says THIS MAN IS YOUR FUTURE HUSBAND.
So, should I meet up with him? Maybe he won’t fancy me anyway in real life. Maybe I can just add him to my long list of unbelieving friends. Maybe I’m the one who can fix him, change him from his heathen ways?
So reader, it’s over to you. In the words of John the Baptist (kind of): Is atheistboy the one that I’ve been waiting for, or should I wait for another?