When Reality and Fantasy Collide

Sometimes when I'm bored I go out to Match.com and do some window shopping. There you find personal ads from men, all of whom describe themselves as some new, innovative shade of Prince Charming. Most of the ads demonstrate either the shocking similarity of the individuals of the human race, or its depressing banality. Originality is, apparently, not something that is prized on Match.com. Everybody is "not into the scene," and "normal." (As a little side note, I'm eternally entertained by the men who are too old to date themselves. They request that respondents not exceed a certain age, usually justifying it with their "untamed zest for life." Yes. I'm a twenty-three-year-old, muscle-bound fitness model and I'm just dying to date a forty-five-year-old, balding dentist. It could happen.)

Then one day just before the holidays I was stopped dead in my tracks. RP-- MY RP -- has a persoal ad posted on Match.com!

For those who have not followed this blog religiously, RP stands for "Real Prototype." That means that I have the ideal boyfriend all mapped out in my head, perfection on toast. From time to time I appropriate certain people to sort of symbolize this dream. At different times I've used Ben Affleck, Brendan Fraser, etc. But for the last two years, the role of RP has been played by someone who actually inhabits my real life. By that I mean he is a person whom I could actually speak to, actually pick up the phone and have a discussion with, and probably not be arrested as a stalker. The reality is that I've never said more than a dozen words to him. And if we do have any sort of conversation it's awkward, trading jokey insults. Just thinking about him makes me feel like a twelve-year-old girl, so being within earshot almost makes me a drooling idiot. But, to put a finer point on reality, he probably doesn't even really realize I exist beyond this adolescent patter. And it's all fine. I've appropriated him (without his knowledge) to play the starring role in my little romantic fantasy in my head. I know it's all silliness.

Still, that didn't mean my heart didn't flutter when I saw his picture posted for the world to see, advertising for a new boyfriend! Part of Match.com is a profile that the website uses to match people. Since it was free, I immediately filled it out to see how RP and I match.

We don't, really.

He doesn't read.

Anything.

Ever.

And he sites Carrie Bradshaw as his romance guru. Now, I like Sex and the City as much as the next gay, but I would hardly use that sitcom as my relationship touchstone. RP is nice enough, but he's just as shallow in real life as the persona I've created in my head. How is that possible?

I can't say I'm heart broken. And I don't even know if anything has to change. He can still be RP to me. But now I know for an absolute certainty there can be nothing real between us. Not like when RP was played by Ben Affleck.