Recently teased by my single-status at a dinner amongst friends, the conversation rapidly turned to the intricate variations in semantics & jargon in today’s boy-meets -girl date-o-sphere. Initiated by my statement that I don’t date, the debate begged for a clarification in terminology. In my book, dating is an almost extinct Art form which consist in romancing, courting a possible love interest. Love letters, poems and mixed tapes (ok, maybe not mixed tapes). The death of dating can be blamed in the upsurge in casualness between humans. Dating has been trumped by “hooking-up”, “hanging out” and “friends with benefits”. This try now and maybe buy later social charade has killed dating. Dating is the chase, the playoffs. It’s the fantasy of possibilities and the possibility of fantasies. It’s perhaps because I’ve seen many frogs amongst princes that I’m jaded by new school approaches to coupling and in reality, I’m not sure I would recognize dating if it pimp-slapped me behind the neck,
Although clichéd and overused, in this case the old adage rings true: «It’s the journey, not the destination”. Surely, romantics who like me miss the chase, agree.