I’m watching a film on my computer, otherwise known as waiting for a Facebook message from the world’s slowest correspondent. He’s called FFS for a reason. I’ve twice given up on him and we’re yet to go on an actual date.
I know – and not just because Flatmate has told me as much – that so long as it’s evident I’m not at the forefront of the guy’s mind, I mustn’t let him anywhere near the forefront of mine. Which is a lovely idea…
So yeah, I’m watching a film, which it turns out is brilliant and wonderful and endorses all those dangerous myths about love and soul mates and relationships founded on a meeting of eyes and absolutely zero verbal communication. They’re bad news, such films, because they make me nostalgic.
There’s a scene where the man and woman, who only met properly a couple of hours before, slow dance at a silent disco.
He’s walking her to a party when they have a blazing row, and she goes on alone. He follows, and arrives to find a roomful of guests silently dancing, each lost in their own little world. There, in the middle of the floor, is the woman, eyes closed, moving in time to music. He goes over, puts a hand on her shoulder, and she turns. They don’t speak. She removes an earphone, offers it to him, makes a selection on her iPod. A slow, sweet song comes on, and they dance, arms round one another.
I’d dreamt of just such a moment since the days of the dreaded school disco. I remember one time, Angels came on and I grabbed a partner. A minute of shuffling on the spot later, I realized it didn’t work with just anyone. Ten years on, at an office party, I discover someone it does work with. So, when the couple in the film starts to dance, it’s him I think of.
An hour in, I’m despairing. Matthew’s not a patch on the male protagonist. I’ll never have what the characters in the film have. I bet they’re together in real life. Hell, this isn’t a film at all, is it?! It’s just two actors falling in love! It’s probably not even scripted! I want to cry!
Then, all of a sudden, the woman in the film is despairing.
‘Is there someone else – is that it?’
There isn’t someone else. I won’t tell you what happens in case you watch it, which you should. It’s beautiful, funny, and heart-breaking. It’s the kind of film I hope to write one day; about the kind of love I hope to know.