Tarot

The tarot card I most identify with these days is The Hermit. A cloaked figure, struggling along in isolation, peering ahead into the darkness, lit only by the dim lantern he holds.

I've been looking for 'the one', my soulmate, my twin flame, my life partner, for the 18 years since my marriage ended. I've walked alongside others for a while, at least one of whom has since left this ceaseless struggle we call life. The partings have rarely been happy ones.

Well, it's been nearly a year since I actually had a date. Now after months of fruitless inactivity, I've been dumped twice in two weeks by people I've never met.

The first kept me chatting for days and led me on with hints of a lot more than friendship before pretending to notice my long hair and beard for the first time, despite my profile being full of pictures of me sporting both. I was then advised that I'd need a trim before she would find me acceptable, but friendship was on offer and maybe more if I ever got a haircut. I may be weird, but actually, appearance is not my first priority. Honesty and integrity rank very much higher, so that was that as far as I was concerned.

The second was a real flash in the pan, rather than a smoulder. I hit it off big time with someone whose bad life experiences mirrored mine to a remarkable degree. We seemed to have similar personalities and I finally dared hope I'd found someone really special. We messaged each other furiously, shared photographs, talked late into the night. So many similarities, so much in common, so much mutual understanding it seemed, but so far away. At least she was in the UK.

Unfortunately, she'd recently had a similar experience with someone else local to her. A meeting of minds - and bodies, but they'd called a halt after three months because he was married and apparently loved his wife and mistress equally. They still met as 'platonic' friends. It turned out that, although she was on a dating site, she wasn't ready to date. In the ultimate irony, she felt we were getting on so well, it was equivalent to 'cheating' on her cheater. I was unceremoniously told she needed space and was blocked.

Today, my tarot card is the three of swords. Three swords, dripping blood, penetrating a heart. Yep, that's spot on too.

The perfection of the ten of cups seems as far away as ever.