Online dating is about vanity. Simply put, I think that I'm too attractive, too interesting and too young to need to subject myself to the trauma of courting on the Internet.
But there's another reason, too—it's that I love a story. One of my favorite parts of dating is a charming "how we met" anecdote. And I'm sorry, but there's nothing charming about Harmony. So when someone I know admitted that part of getting over his first love meant realizing that he'd been "in love with the story"—the two of them met in the desert in Israel—I immediately recognized my own experience.
Specifically, I recognized my Missed Connection. It was the Internet that brought us together, ironically, but there was plot. We made eye contact on a Brooklyn-bound train and then found one another through the Missed Connections page on Craigslist. I posted the ad, for the first time in my life, and he hadn't even heard of the site until reading about it in the Times Book Review two weeks prior.
On our first date, he unassumingly disclosed a critical mass of Ideal Boyfriend qualities: he was six-foot-five and a lawyer for a labor union. He asked me questions and read the New Yorker. He had become an ordained minister online so that he could perform the weddings of both of his younger sisters.
He was so completely good-natured that, initially, my attraction vanished. (I questioned my sexuality the way I had after the first time I kissed an attractive man and felt nothing—only years later realizing it was because he was meek and unintelligent.) But the story of my Missed Connection was so compelling that I persevered, eventually convincing myself that I should probably marry him. When life plans pulled us apart after just three months of dating, I felt devastated. Recently, though, when our paths crossed briefly for beers and conversation, we had a great time—but the chemistry wasn't there. I had to admit that, on some level, it never truly was.
Sometimes we encounter the opposite: We find the connection, but not the story. The other night I talked with a friend who is navigating an increasingly serious relationship. Outwardly creative and 14)liberal, she always anticipated that she'd end up with someone similar. The man she's dating isn't: He's clean-cut and has a "conventional" job. He's right for her in deeper, more fundamental ways—but she admits it's a struggle to accept that, superficially, he's not what she thought she wanted. He doesn't reflect the story she believed about herself.
No matter where we meet people—on the subway or online—all of us make up stories that reinforce notions of our relationships and ourselves. It's the way we make sense of the world: I'm not sure any of us could survive without giving our lives some compelling plot lines. I certainly couldn't. But even as I do, I will try to remember that any connection I'm lucky enough to find with someone is far more important than whatever story that connection might tell.
我討厭網(wǎng)絡(luò)相親的最大原因在于其虛有其表。簡(jiǎn)而言之,我認(rèn)為自己太有魅力、太有趣也太年輕了,根本沒(méi)有必要去經(jīng)歷網(wǎng)絡(luò)求愛(ài)這種精神創(chuàng)傷。
不過(guò),這其中還有另外一個(gè)原因——我喜歡有故事的愛(ài)情。對(duì)于約會(huì),我最鐘愛(ài)的部分便是“我們?nèi)绾蜗嘧R(shí)”這件迷人軼事。真抱歉,“網(wǎng)絡(luò)紅娘”根本跟迷人不沾邊。因此,當(dāng)我的一位朋友承認(rèn)結(jié)束其初戀的部分原因是他明白到自己一直以來(lái)只是“與那個(gè)故事相愛(ài)”——他們兩人是在以色列的沙漠中相遇的——我立刻想到了自己的經(jīng)歷。
具體來(lái)說(shuō),我想到了自己一段錯(cuò)過(guò)的聯(lián)系。諷刺的是,讓我們找到了對(duì)方的正是網(wǎng)絡(luò),當(dāng)中還有情節(jié)。我們?cè)谝涣虚_往布魯克林方向的火車上有過(guò)一面之緣,隨后在“克雷格菜單”網(wǎng)站的“尋人啟事”頁(yè)面中找到對(duì)方。我發(fā)布了平生第一則尋人廣告,而他是在前兩周讀到《時(shí)代》雜志的書評(píng)時(shí)才知道這個(gè)網(wǎng)站。
我們第一次約會(huì)時(shí),他自然地流露出成為理想男友的基本條件:身高六尺五寸(約2.17米),是一名工會(huì)律師。他對(duì)我噓寒問(wèn)暖,喜歡讀《紐約客》雜志。他在網(wǎng)上獲得牧師的圣職,好讓自己能為兩個(gè)妹妹主婚。
他的脾氣好得太徹底了,以致我對(duì)他從一開始便不感興趣。(與這么有魅力的男人接吻卻沒(méi)有任何反應(yīng),我當(dāng)時(shí)不禁懷疑自己的性能力——多年后我才明白那只是因?yàn)樗珳仨槪粔驒C(jī)靈。)然而這個(gè)“錯(cuò)過(guò)的聯(lián)系”的故事讓人如此無(wú)法抗拒,我一直堅(jiān)守這段感情,甚至最終說(shuō)服自己應(yīng)該嫁給他。當(dāng)我們約會(huì)了三個(gè)月,生活計(jì)劃將我們拉扯開的時(shí)候,我整個(gè)人都崩潰了。而最近,我們相約小酌幾杯,閑聊幾句時(shí)相處得非常愉快——只是不再有心跳的感覺(jué)。我不得不承認(rèn),在某種程度上,我們之間從來(lái)就不存在愛(ài)情。
有時(shí)候,我們的際遇卻剛好相反:我們找到的是感覺(jué),而非相遇的故事。有一天晚上,我和一位朋友聊天,她正處于一段日漸認(rèn)真的戀情當(dāng)中。她從外表來(lái)看創(chuàng)意多多,崇尚自由,一直期待與一個(gè)同道中人在一起。和她約會(huì)的那個(gè)男人并非如此:他輪廓分明,從事一份“刻板”的工作。他在更深層次、更基本的方面卻正合適她——但她稱接受這樣的現(xiàn)實(shí)的確不容易,表面上看,他不是她認(rèn)為自己想要的對(duì)象。他完全無(wú)法體現(xiàn)她相信的那個(gè)關(guān)于自己的故事。
無(wú)論我們?cè)谑裁礃拥牡胤脚c人相遇相識(shí)——在地鐵站還是網(wǎng)絡(luò)——我們都會(huì)編造一些故事,加強(qiáng)對(duì)彼此關(guān)系和自身的想法。這就是我們認(rèn)知世界的方式:若不給自己的生命添加一些無(wú)法抗拒的故事情節(jié),我不太確定是否還有人能繼續(xù)活下去。我就絕對(duì)不行。然而即便我喜歡故事,我仍將努力去記住這一點(diǎn)——任何我有幸能從某個(gè)人身上找到的感覺(jué),都遠(yuǎn)比這種感覺(jué)所講述的故事來(lái)得重要。