Here's the beginning of one story. A woman registers on a dating website and starts looking through the images. She finds herself drawn to one face in particular:
'It was so, so weirdand I can't explain it. Just from looking at him I knew I was going to be with him. I knew. In my head I started planning things, planning years ahead. It was just ridiculous.'
Then she contacts him...
Here's the beginning of another story. A man is randomly flicking through TV channels and sees a pop star being interviewed. He has a 'premonition' that he is meant to be with her. He contacts her and arranges to meet her. They meet in a pub and have a conversation lasting half an hour. At the end, he says to her: 'You could just run out of here and I'll never see you again, but I really think we're meant to be together. I think we should get married.' She says...
So what happens? Are we watching Fatal Attraction or Truly, Madly, Deeply? Is this an example of true love or de Clérambault's Syndrome?
In fact, both these examples are from a St Valentine's Day article in the Guardian. When you read a story connected to St Valentine's Day, you know it's either going to be a love story or a slasher movie.
To paraphrase Shakespeare, it's a fine line between Richard Curtis and Tobe Hooper.
PS The woman in the first story concludes: 'We had a baby girl in July. It's all terribly romantic. I'm sickly sweet and happy. I still have butterflies in my tummy when I see him. It's the best thing I have ever done in my life. It was a total whirlwind, but I don't regret any of it for a moment.'
The couple in the second story, singer Nerina Pallot and producer Andrew Chatterley have a one-year-old son. They christened him Wolfgang Amadeus. No pressure then.
PPS Our own version of this story takes a slightly different turn.
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