Ah the morning after the end of a mini relationship. So last night the curtain fell on a month long, what shall I call it? Fling? Romance? Whatever it was it was all a little weird. I have a feeling now that I was doing what I consider to be one of the greatest of crimes for the sake of a bit of attention, affection and excitement, I was settling. I think I suspected that my heart wasn't into it quite early on, but, because I was so sick of the meaningless shags and wanted a change from being single, I went along with it, allowing myself to focus on all the positives. I concentrated on the fact that someone thought I was fabulous, wanted to take me out and not just fuck me. This allowed me to overlook the following danger signs that would normally make me walk away instantly. Oh, and the fact that I had known him for quite a long time prob clouded my judgement.
Alarm bell number 1- The boy was the best friend of my best friend's ex.
Alarm Bell Number 2- I wasn't too fond of his kissing technique.
Alarm bell Number 3 - He took me to his friends' barbecue, got pilled up whilst I remained relatively sober not knowing anyone there. It's worth noting at this point that I don't do drugs, never have and never felt the need to. He knew this.
Alarm Bell number 4 - After 2 weeks he tells me he is falling in love with me. The next day I acknowledged that it was the drugs talking and wasn't going to take it seriously. This was his chance to do some back peddling and save his skin, but no he told me that he had known exactly what he was saying. This caused me to freak out quite a bit.
Alarm Bell number 5- following the declaration of love I shagged someone else.
Alarm Bell number 6- Having not seen him for a week he had agreed to pop round so we could go for a walk. I hung around waiting for him for two hours before receiving a text telling me that he was in the pub with his mate (my best friend's ex). My response? I went out with another boy.
So you would expect after all that it would be over. No, for some reason, despite everything pointing to a massive, fluorescent sign flashing that this wasn't going anywhere, not least because of my inability to not fuck other men, for some reason I persevered, intent on trying to make this work. I don't know why or what I was trying to prove, to myself let alone anyone else, but on Monday, having been stood up the previous day, I allowed him to come round and have a chat. I told him why I was pissed off and that I had met up and had sex with another guy. I was completely honest. We agreed to be mates but this didn't feel right and before long he was stroking my leg and we were kissing. So by the end of the afternoon we were back to "seeing what happens."
When I went to meet him last night I had a moment of clarity. As soon as I saw him in the pub it all clicked into place. I didn't want this. I didn't want him. I was settling for someone who although on occasions was really sweet and lovely, treated me well and lavished me with attention, at other times had shown himself to be inconsiderate, inconsistent and unreliable. It made for the most awkward and briefest date I have experienced. It didn't end particularly pleasantly either and the scope for us to continue to be 'mates' -something he suddenly seems keen to insist is all we have been all along- well, it doesn't look too good from where I'm standing.
Friday 28 August 2009
Wednesday 5 August 2009
Fifth date procrastination and the Tall Boy
So tonight I'm going on my fifth (fifth!) date with a guy. This is a pretty monumental landmark in my love life as I've not been out on so many dates with the same person since early 2007. On this previous occasion it was a boy I had met in a nightclub in Sunderland. As soon as I caught sight of his ridiculously (and all the more wonderful for it) tall frame rolling around on the dance floor, I said to my friend "He looks like a car wreck, I want him." Some two hours later I found myself dancing near him and without even speaking to each other, we ended up copping off as soon as 'Do you remember the first time' blared out through the speakers. In my head this was fate, perfection. Pulp are one of my favouritest bands and what more perfect song title (not the actual song) to kick off a relationship than 'Do you remember the first time?' Of course these thoughts were in my head during the following few days, I was too busy kissing the Tall Boy for the next hour or so to be capable of thinking about anything else.
A few days later we went on a date. Conversation flowed easily but physically things were burning very slowly which was a complete contrast to how things had played out on the previous Saturday night. We eventually ended up in a club, sitting in a corner with our tongues down each other's throats. Although he had arranged for somewhere to stay that night (he lived out of town) I ended up taking him home with me. I'd love to be able to write that we had amazing sex going on well into the next afternoon, stopping only to take recovery naps, but unfortunately things just didn't seem to happen. I put it down to his heavy consumption of alcohol and left it at that.
The next morning I was sick due to my heavy consumption of alcohol. Thinking that I might want some kissing off the boy I vigorously brushed my teeth then headed back to the boudoir. he was now awake so I leaned in for a kiss at which point he turned away and said "You've just been sick, I can't." Undeterred I insisted that I had just brushed my teeth but to little avail. I was not impressed with the lad's lack of passion, but he was younger (20 to my 28), so I put it down to inexperience and we arranged a second date.
The second date was nowhere near as successful as the first. I think I had been a bit deterred by the lack of sex and morning action, and was not feeling optimistic for the events that lay ahead. Still I turned up to meet the Tall Boy. We went to a couple of pubs and although conversation was easy to come by, any attempts I made for the slightest bit of physical contact were brushed away. This left me frustrated and upset. Like any other person, I do not take rejection well and it left me wondering why he had even bothered to come all the way through from Sunderland to meet me. At the end of the evening I went to kiss him goodbye and he turned away. This and his response to the question of what his favourite animal was, "Oh I dunno, a dog", caused my temper to flare.
It is always one of the first questions I ask any potentials, what their favourite animal is. The wrong response will leave me searching for the door, the right response usually leaves my heart a little bit tangled and in trouble, but sometimes there are responses that I can't quite figure out. It's all about the rationale behind their favourite choice. This will reveal a lot about the person and how they think about the world. So anyway back to Tall Boy's rejection of my advances...
My confidence was severely dented and so I retaliated in the most shameful way by snapping "Oh for fuck's sake this is ridiculous, I shagged someone else on Saturday anyhow!" before leaving the pub we were sat in and walking to the nearest taxi rank and leaving him alone. Immediately the guilt snuck in. I had shagged someone on the Saturday but it was just a casual fuck which I barely remembered, I did actually like this tall boy and had wanted the possibility of something more. A string of apologetic texts were passed from myself to him and then from him to me. He explained that he did find me attractive but that he had some issues with impotence which left him very embarrassed. This made me feel like utter shit and I became all the more apologetic and guilt ridden. I suppose I should've just left it there but no, I decided that we should go on another date. Amazingly he agreed.
The third date was to the Casino, the previous meeting was not mentioned and we had a really good time together and he came back to mine. I was drunk and horny but also resolute that I was not going to try to coerce him into any attempts at sex, so we made do with kissing and fumbling and all was well with the world.
Fourth date was meeting for drinks and once again was a wholly pleasurable evening involving a lot of kissing and touching and not all of it instigated by me. He had to get the last metro home as he was working the next day but as I walked with him to the station we made arrangements to meet later in the week. I was feeling optimistic and intent on taking things slowly, despite my high and at times inconvenient sex drive. I liked this boy, I decided, I wanted to see if we could make a go of it. And when a a hot lad tried it on with me on the Friday night I walked away, despite my drunkeness, priding myself on my restraint.
Then when I met Tall boy for the fifth date he irritated me on sight. I can't explain why but I had just suddenly lost interest. Everything he said was dull, every mannerism grated on me. Fortunately we had gone to the cinema and so interaction could be kept at a minimum. We went for a pint after the film but conversation was stilted to say the least. I was aware I was being a mardy cow but I had also become suddenly aware of the fact that there was no real sexual attraction there. I think we both liked the idea of each other and probably wanted to fancy each other but it just wasn't happening.
It ended like many things end these days, via text. I was travelling home on the bus after saying goodbye to him and thanked him for a nice time but I think it was obvious that it wasn't going to go anywhere. He was all too quick to concur.
So in that instant the fifth date was actually our last, which seems a like an ominous sign for tonight, especially as we are headed to the cinema. However, thus far things seem generally to be a little bit more promising with tonight's date, which to be honest is all the more terrifying.
A few days later we went on a date. Conversation flowed easily but physically things were burning very slowly which was a complete contrast to how things had played out on the previous Saturday night. We eventually ended up in a club, sitting in a corner with our tongues down each other's throats. Although he had arranged for somewhere to stay that night (he lived out of town) I ended up taking him home with me. I'd love to be able to write that we had amazing sex going on well into the next afternoon, stopping only to take recovery naps, but unfortunately things just didn't seem to happen. I put it down to his heavy consumption of alcohol and left it at that.
The next morning I was sick due to my heavy consumption of alcohol. Thinking that I might want some kissing off the boy I vigorously brushed my teeth then headed back to the boudoir. he was now awake so I leaned in for a kiss at which point he turned away and said "You've just been sick, I can't." Undeterred I insisted that I had just brushed my teeth but to little avail. I was not impressed with the lad's lack of passion, but he was younger (20 to my 28), so I put it down to inexperience and we arranged a second date.
The second date was nowhere near as successful as the first. I think I had been a bit deterred by the lack of sex and morning action, and was not feeling optimistic for the events that lay ahead. Still I turned up to meet the Tall Boy. We went to a couple of pubs and although conversation was easy to come by, any attempts I made for the slightest bit of physical contact were brushed away. This left me frustrated and upset. Like any other person, I do not take rejection well and it left me wondering why he had even bothered to come all the way through from Sunderland to meet me. At the end of the evening I went to kiss him goodbye and he turned away. This and his response to the question of what his favourite animal was, "Oh I dunno, a dog", caused my temper to flare.
It is always one of the first questions I ask any potentials, what their favourite animal is. The wrong response will leave me searching for the door, the right response usually leaves my heart a little bit tangled and in trouble, but sometimes there are responses that I can't quite figure out. It's all about the rationale behind their favourite choice. This will reveal a lot about the person and how they think about the world. So anyway back to Tall Boy's rejection of my advances...
My confidence was severely dented and so I retaliated in the most shameful way by snapping "Oh for fuck's sake this is ridiculous, I shagged someone else on Saturday anyhow!" before leaving the pub we were sat in and walking to the nearest taxi rank and leaving him alone. Immediately the guilt snuck in. I had shagged someone on the Saturday but it was just a casual fuck which I barely remembered, I did actually like this tall boy and had wanted the possibility of something more. A string of apologetic texts were passed from myself to him and then from him to me. He explained that he did find me attractive but that he had some issues with impotence which left him very embarrassed. This made me feel like utter shit and I became all the more apologetic and guilt ridden. I suppose I should've just left it there but no, I decided that we should go on another date. Amazingly he agreed.
The third date was to the Casino, the previous meeting was not mentioned and we had a really good time together and he came back to mine. I was drunk and horny but also resolute that I was not going to try to coerce him into any attempts at sex, so we made do with kissing and fumbling and all was well with the world.
Fourth date was meeting for drinks and once again was a wholly pleasurable evening involving a lot of kissing and touching and not all of it instigated by me. He had to get the last metro home as he was working the next day but as I walked with him to the station we made arrangements to meet later in the week. I was feeling optimistic and intent on taking things slowly, despite my high and at times inconvenient sex drive. I liked this boy, I decided, I wanted to see if we could make a go of it. And when a a hot lad tried it on with me on the Friday night I walked away, despite my drunkeness, priding myself on my restraint.
Then when I met Tall boy for the fifth date he irritated me on sight. I can't explain why but I had just suddenly lost interest. Everything he said was dull, every mannerism grated on me. Fortunately we had gone to the cinema and so interaction could be kept at a minimum. We went for a pint after the film but conversation was stilted to say the least. I was aware I was being a mardy cow but I had also become suddenly aware of the fact that there was no real sexual attraction there. I think we both liked the idea of each other and probably wanted to fancy each other but it just wasn't happening.
It ended like many things end these days, via text. I was travelling home on the bus after saying goodbye to him and thanked him for a nice time but I think it was obvious that it wasn't going to go anywhere. He was all too quick to concur.
So in that instant the fifth date was actually our last, which seems a like an ominous sign for tonight, especially as we are headed to the cinema. However, thus far things seem generally to be a little bit more promising with tonight's date, which to be honest is all the more terrifying.
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