Keith's Proposal

It was February 14th. I had been dating Keith for 55 days and I woke up with the resolution to sever ties with him, but being Valentine’s day, I couldn’t be so cruel to do so on such a special date. I should be able to wait until tomorrow.

I considered that it was highly improbable for him to call to celebrate this date, because I had scolded him like a kid, and his answer transpired that he had heard enough; and also, that he didn’t appreciate my opinion. He was affronted and upset. I regretted having done so; but I couldn’t help it. Why did I make him angry and let him give me the slip? Why did I place myself in a position to be jilted if it’s me who wants to leave him? 

This is what happened. The past Tuesday he sent me a text reading: “I’ve been unwell since Monday because on Sunday was out for a very long walk and my knee is swollen.” Then I started my tirade: “Aren’t you old enough to be able to take good care of yourself.” Then added: “Why did you go for a very long walk on the coldest day of winter?” I was impervious to his answers, (this is why I do not remember them) and kept at it: “You know that it’s not good for your bones! Why did you choose to stay outdoors the whole afternoon and risked to catch pneumonia?” I was aware that I had reprimanded him as a stepmother dealing with a stupid kid. His answer, when he couldn’t take any more, was: “I consider myself told.” And his tone of voice signalled that I had overstepped my limits. Then by Saturday, when my mind was made up about leaving him, I hadn’t heard from Keith for four days, which was unusual.

I admit that I do not gel often with people, but I have been feeling uneasy about Keith from the start, and even more so after his proposal. I’ve met him through internet dating by December 10, when I was already feeling the winter blues, heighten by the prospect of another birthday without a soulmate to celebrate. How I would like to look forward to dress to the tee and meet a date to go to the theatre and have a candle-lit dinner! So when the encounters site I have used in the past sent me an e-mail offering a 3 days free subscription as a birthday present, I couldn’t resist the temptation to try once more.

I had tried to ignore the e-mail and scrolled it down, because had decided to give up internet dating when the statistics chart of the page counted over 500 favourites and dozens of contacts and not even a friend to go out, or have a chat with. Then I was forced to conclude that it wasn’t worth the effort. I was wasting time and energy, apart from the money, for nothing. 

I’ve been living alone for too long, and according to my daughter, I am now a cave woman. I think she is a bit ambivalent about my dating. Doesn’t disapprove of it but is reluctant to meet strangers. Might be happy for me to have somebody to go out with, so that wouldn’t feel guilty if I spend a lot of time alone, but may become demanding about childcare, and then I’m are left with little time and energy for anything else. It is the truth that my social skills are disappearing, but I find my daughter’s comment too harsh and disqualifying; it makes me think that her aim is to make me give up any hope, and so have me at her beck and call.

I have more reasons to stop trying to get a date, which I find harder to accept because there is not much I can do about them. One of them is that I am having trouble to hear and understand spoken language; which doesn’t help to make casual conversation. Then there is the serious matter of a different idiosyncrasy because I am Italian, and however diverse the population of England might be, foreigners are not fully accepted by older folk; there are some tribal undercurrents. It is “them” and “us. That is not the case among the young professionals, but alas, I am not young any more.

All things put together explain why the prospect of finding a partner is highly improbable. But one rainy day, I remembered about the free subscription, disregarded all the obstacles, and sprang into action. First edited my profile. Then made it visible again. I needed a recent picture, I thought, because after a while it imprints on the mind of the people and skip it. Replaced the photo for a striking one with a jovial smile, and sporting a tilbury hat, from my last holiday, looking tanned and relaxed; then started browsing the dating page once more for probable matches, at full speed, given the limited duration of the membership.

Some men have been there for almost 10 years (so I wasn’t the only prickly pear with a rotten luck). A former suitor had forgotten that we had already met, and he hadn’t wanted to have a second date because I was “too young for him”, he said then; and now was contacting me again. His message: “I think we have a lot in common”. Oh! Yes,!

I was still sceptical, but deep down, expected a miracle. So to make this offer produce at least a successful result, I clicked “fan” on a dozen of guys and wrote a quick note to a few. This person, who seemed younger than his age, with a head full of his own hair and not a grey in sight, showed interest. I am not after an adonis, but I care about looks provided they don’t use his presence as a primary asset, and value good quality clothes and a well-coordinated dress sense. I didn’t know at that point that he would go to Asda for a new coat.

The people I found easier to relate with are the ones which are creative, open-minded and good at problem-solving. When Keith contacted me and I learned that he was an engineer, then assumed that we could be a good match. But his branch of engineering was maintenance, which doesn’t require a lot of creativity. In fact, he turned up to be pretty dull. His other interest was motorcycling.

I also value good health, but in my haste to read as many profiles as possible didn’t check his dietary restrictions, so I missed the fact that he was diabetic. Then he mentioned it on our first date, when we had lunch at the restaurant next to the canal, in Little Venice, on December 20. 

He had arrived early and was waiting outside, feeling nervous. Then we entered the place and the front of the house guided us to a table, but, before sitting he excused himself to go to the restroom with his diabetes kit, and in the course of the lunch also mentioned having trouble with his kidneys, which caused him skin rashes, he said, while showing his forearms bearing some scabs. So by then, I was feeling sorry for him, and the last straw was his comment about a bad knee. I don’t remember when he revealed this, probably after lunch, when we went for a walk along Oxford Street, and he failed to keep pace with me at some crossings. But in a parallel discourse, he kept saying that he felt really well, and was in a pretty good health.

I saw that he was not a healthy man, and also that he was kidding himself, which was even worse, but I didn’t say no to a second date, because he seemed a nice person, and thought that it could be good for both of us to have somebody to talk to, so we could be friends, and told him so. Then he on January 9, only 20 days after we first met, he rang to tell me of his proposal about declaring me as a partner with British Airways, his former employer. It would mean that I could enjoy unlimited discounted tickets for life (his life), depending on availability of seats; and also one free business class ticket every year to travel with him. Then he invited to go to Japan with all expenses payed. However, I know that there is not such a thing as a free lunch or a free trip, so I was reluctant to accept his offer. Even though I love to travel and flying business class to Japan is as improbable for me as a trip to Mars I told him I wasn’t sure it was right. But he had insisted and said that it would be selfish of him not to share something that would cost him nothing. As for the travel expenses, he would be happy to pay for me because he enjoyed my company. I felt flattered and accepted.

However, once I started to know him better, I realised that planning a trip with him was not a good idea. We have different lifestyles, to begin with, so when he said he was going to pay for my travel expenses on top of the free plane tickets, I reminded myself that he was very thrifty and I am not inclined to suffer scarcity. Then, considering that Japan is a very expensive country, I had to prepare a substantial budget. But then, which would be the point to spend money on a trip if I would have no control over the itinerary which was predetermined by him because he was going to visit friends; and could not choose the timing because he was expecting a call from hospital for a knee replacement? And afterwards, who could estimate how long it would take him to get mobile and able to walk around? Being a diabetic, he could face complications, I couldn’t plan anything and had to put on hold my life for him. Wasn’t this a way to get me hooked with his proposal and have me devoted to him with the promise of an expensive trip?

When I reached to this conclusion, I started to be very angry at him. If you are lonely and unhappy, and you meet a person who you like why not take the opportunity to be happy and postpone an operation, which wasn’t life saving and, arguably, carried a lot of risk for him? I would have chosen to plan the trip immediately to catch the wonderful season of the cherry bloom and seize the chance of having a companion to travel with. So it was clear now that our personalities didn’t match. I always choose to have a good time, while there is an option, and he prefers to waste an opportunity. This is a recipe for unhappiness.

While the whole picture was forming in my mind I started to have a recurring nightmare where somebody was chasing me in a very crowded road, like Oxford Street a week before Christmas, and I could not run fast enough because of the crowd, but was desperately trying to put distance between me and the chaser. After giving it some thought, I realised that I did not want to find myself in this no-win situation, and this is why I had reprimanded him like a kid. To make him angry and let him cut the relationship. That was one possibility, the easiest for me.

He had tried to present himself as a generous person, so I found it difficult to tell him that I wanted him to get lost; but if I carried on I would feel stupid, because he was using his proposal to get me to stand by him dangling the carrot of an improbable trip to Japan, so it amounted to manipulation.

Then another possibility I had left was to start using the BA discounted tickets and disappear as soon as things got unpleasant, turning me into a cold and opportunistic person, which I am not. Pragmatical, yes; not prone to sacrifice my time and interests, yes; but there is a line I wouldn’t cross. There are people who call for this kind of treatment, but it was not for me to provide it. It takes a materialistic and callous person to accept the benefits without the moral implications. I was angry to have been dragged into shifting sands. So, in my mind, the trip was off the table, as well as the man and his troubles. I just wanted to free myself of this twisted situation. 

He was weak, physically and emotionally. I couldn’t put aside my concerns about the consequences of an operation for a person in his circumstances. I’ve tried to talk him out of his plans, but since I am neither part of his family, nor a qualified doctor, I have no authority to insist.

He was living alone and would have no help during his convalescence. What if he had complications? He could even face an amputation, if the leg got infected. I couldn’t believe that the surgeon would operate.

Also, when Keith sets his mind about something, it turns hard as concrete. Once we were going to see a movie but another one more interesting was launched and I couldn’t make him change program. But this time, the subject was not a movie, but a serious risk for him. So out of impotence resorted to chiding him. “You could ride a bicycle instead of wearing out the knee with your impossibly long walks, and so you could avoid the operation.” Then he answered: “Having suffered of a bad knee for more that twenty years I would not wait any longer to do it.“ Then I said: “If you have been suffering for so long, why you didn’t go under the knife earlier, while you still had a wife to care for you, and you were younger and stronger? You did nothing then, and now that your live alone, decided to go for it?” I’ve meant, why now? Why you are inflicting this on me? I was feeling furious at his bad timing to look for a partner, but I still would have tried to help him, had I lived within walking distance, which is what he had set about to get.

I cannot say that he masterminded the whole thing, because he refuses to see that his health is crumbling, and that is not a smart thing. I don’t think he is cunning, only desperately needy, and is trying to get help and was pulling the strings of my caring self.

Keith had mentioned that he felt very miserable after his wife left him the past February to go back to her native Holland. She didn’t have another man. The reason adduced for leaving him was that she felt very unhappy. Probably he felt guilty about causing his wife’s unhappiness. What could have been so bad to want to escape her present life? Non only husband, but also house, children and grandchildren to go back to his former life. That was the reason why this poor guy, in his deteriorated condition, insisted to undergo an operation which would accelerate his demise. His unconscious mind might be looking for an end to his suffering, physical and emotional. There is a lot of information missing, because he only releases little bits at a time. He is like an iceberg: there is much more under the surface than over it. A danger, if he stands in your way.

When a person is feeling very unhappy may try to end his life. For instance, could get distracted or asleep while driving, and then have a serious an accident. This wouldn’t look as a suicide, mere bad luck.

Now that I mention the chance of an accident while driving, I remember that he confessed that suffered from cataracts, and is not supposed to drive at night. This comment was made casually after he drove me home following a nice evening at the Peacock theatre. It could have been about 11 pm, and since he had to drive back to Horsham, about 100 miles from where I live, I asked him to come up to my flat to have a bite (with thrifty Keith no dinner at a restaurant before or after a show; it is either one or the other), and by the way he would be able to check his sugar level and use the restroom before his journey home. We were having some white rice because he complained of an upset stomach; the day before had eaten something which didn’t agree with him, and was feeling nauseous, he said. (His kidneys not doing a good job?) Then while eating I’ve learned that on top of all his other illnesses and misfortunes, he suffered from cataracts and must not drive after dark. So the thump that I heard while he was driving slowly to park could have been something he had failed to see? He had made me uncomfortable earlier when he turned up with a box with a red rose and an envelope with a red heart inside. Hadn’t I told him about being only friends? Now, after the revelation that I could have been involved in an accident because Mr Nice preferred to ignore his limitations, I had a wake up moment. I told myself: “This guy is a liability, I need to get rid of him as soon as possible.” And this is why I was trying to get him angry at me, so he would do me the favour to disappear.