I’m here today to introduce you to someone.
This person is a nice man. I mean a seriously nice man, who loves animals, children, plants, sunsets, beaches, fishing, walking, nature, good meals, the occasional drink, dessert, reading, music, philosophising, dreaming, conversations that go on for hours, Scrabble, card games and laughing at the absurdity of life. This is a man who cares not a jot for brands, fast cars or anything flashy. I mean he cares not a jot; I don’t mean he pretends not to care while secretly lusting after them.
He is solvent, self-employed and in his mid-thirties. He’s been in therapy and faced his demons. He has no baggage in the form of children or past marriages. He doesn’t gamble, or smoke.
This is a man who would never check his email on his Blackberry while “listening” to you, in fact, he probably doesn’t even know what a Blackberry is. He isn’t on Facebook and he hasn’t heard of Twitter. He does own a cellphone and has been known to send an email, but his job is outdoors and that is where he loves to be. Until recently, he had never left southern Africa, but is now developing a penchant for travel.
What else can I tell you?
His family are sane. (His sister, particularly, is delightful.) He is a compassionate and respectful employer. He has ideas. He gets excited about things. He finds alternative ways of living and being inspiring. People love him. Dogs and children flock to him. He has a way of listening that you makes you feel better than you really are.
Also, he is not in a relationship, and he would love to be. He would love to have a family and be a father. He hasn’t found love yet because he has dedicated the last decade to his passion – trees – and because the women in his home town like men who wear brands, drive fast cars and flash cash.
Want to see him?
Here he is:
Now with slight smile:
I think he’s gorgeous. But then I would. He’s my brother. (And if you’d like an introduction, let me know …)