‘ps still can’t believe I’m not your type, I’m everybody’s dream!! Noah’

‘So glad you asked! I want somebody who likes me as I am, solid job, kind, wants to plan for the future.’

I’m sure he’s getting the gist by now, but just in case he isn’t …

‘Not interested in charm, don’t want somebody who flirts with other people, or men who spend more time in the bathroom than me (not long). Don’t need flamboyant gestures or exotic holidays.’

I just want to be loved and love back. But I can’t say that. There is a long pause after I hit send.

‘Wow!’

I am not sure if this is a good wow, or a bad wow.

‘Somebody who wants to commit.’

I add for good measure, just in case there is any doubt in his mind. There is another long pause. Maybe I’ve overdone it and scared him off. Bugger. I really need him to help me.

‘Long term this is! Short term, I’m looking for a few fun first dates to get me on the right track.’

‘Are you sure you want safe, secure, boring??!! You’re fun, clever and full of life!’

I am just starting to type a reply, saying that flattery will get him nowhere and what’s fun now might not turn out to be after the wedding bells have chimed, and that some people do believe in deep, honest love that doesn’t necessarily jingle their innermost organs and give them palpitations, when there’s a new text.

Dad.

Why does my heart sink before I’ve even read it? It’s not right, is it? This is so different to the excited feeling of anticipation I had when I spotted that Noah had texted.

‘Thought about a makeover?’

Straight for the jugular, don’t mess about with niceties, Dad!

‘Less provincial bookworm, more interesting catch. Dad x’

For all his faults and similarities to Dad, I can’t ever imagine Noah sending me a message like this.

What?! I glare at the message.

‘Sorry? R x’

Maybe he meant to send it to somebody else.

‘You can be a bit off-putting. Too, how do I put this, strident? Challenging? A new sexier image could help. Try a bit harder! Just a thought! Dad x’

Strident, challenging? Try a bit harder?

‘I’m not a fish, I’m not a catch! R x’

His next text starts with a crying with laughter emoticon.

‘Not yet you’re not! Get your skates on, darling! Only trying to help. Dad x’

There’s another laughing emoticon after the ‘skates’.

I hate him.

‘Love you, darling, must dash. Conductor has his baton poised. X’

Does he love me? Do I love him? How can a relationship with your dad be so screwed up? I’ve always tried to please him; I’ve always thought that if I tried harder, if I was better, if I was the daughter that he really wanted then he’d come home. Spend more time with me, with us. I guess I’m still harbouring that stupid, childlike dream.