I’m rather unusual in my approach to dates – I openly give out a list of things that are “wrong” with me, usually on the first dare, and then let a man decide whether or not he is further interested.
I don’t believe in not telling people where they fit into my life or how, if I’m seeing more than one person I give out this information and you can either join my little group or decide I’m a slaggy susan you no longer want to associate with. If I’m only looking for one man in my life to whom I wish to commit to, they are made aware in haste.
Due to my honesty, I am often offended and deeply hurt when a man offers me information and doesn’t mean any of it.
Point in case; the pilot:
The pilot was an awkward yet unconventionally handsome individual that caught my attention the minute he approached me in a bar and the chemistry between us was of great proportion. while he was in the country we saw each other all the time and in times he wasn’t we would text – not too often as texting me everyday just bores me.
He asked if I minded that he is out of the country so much and I told him I didn’t, in fact I am most attracted to men who often don’t stay in the country and travel for one reason or another – it’s just my type (although I don’t know how I manage to find them). At that he responded that I may be the best and most different girl he had ever met.
Months of our dating continued and the usual in-the-country-out-the-country flirtation ensued.
Then, whilst he was away, he texted me that he would be arriving in the next week and he missed me and I must keep some nights free just for him, all to which I agreed… Only never to hear from him again…WTF dude?!? would it have not been easier just not to say that?!? Rather a “I’m bored and this no longer works” would have been much more greatly appreciated. And don’t tell me you miss me if you have no desires to see me again? I don’t get it, why don’t people just say what they mean and mean what they say?
Lost and confused again in this roller coaster called dating
The dearly departed are often glorified after their deaths, where once he was a “drunk uncle” he becomes the “life of the party”, and where she was once “manipulating and lying” she becomes “creative, with a way with words.” Whether it is because we, as a human race, feel guilt, shame or our final respects, we do tend to make those who have passed away a shade brighter in their death.
This got me thinking; does the same phenomenon happen in the passing of a relationship? Do we glorify the memories of the relationship that once was in order to numb the pain of the events leading up to its annihilation?
Do we forget the ghosts of relationship’s past?
We insist on running back into the burning room of our hearts, our former relationships, and are adamant in searching through the ashes to revive something that no longer is. We fall asleep to dream of our dearly departed relationships only to awaken with the sting of a fresh heartbreak.
Is it an attempt to feel again, even if it’s an altered memory?
Personally, I think a part of it is that we glorify our former emotions and memories in order to remind ourselves that we did love, and sometimes loved intensely, and the part of us that allowed us to love another refuses to let go of the ability to do so in the future. Maybe, the holding onto our memories allows us to, somehow, let go of the heartbreak and remember things (or people) as they deserve to be remembered; in fairness and in love.
So, to the emotions I once felt: promise I shall feel you again in all your glory when the time is right.
Clubs and bars are the birth place and breeding grounds for pick up lines, lonely individuals awaiting a drink offer or men on the prowl (just as much as women I dare say). Where women have fantasies of meeting the one (secretly of course) and men have fantasies of their next erotic conquest (mostly ruined by the fact that too much whiskey makes for a most unattractive man).
I find myself at my local watering hole not very often, but when I do, oh boy! Am I duly entertained and am even more socially awkward than I care to admit…Let me explain:
It’s a Friday evening and I’ve decided that means a girl friend and me simply must go out dancing ( she is in a relationship and loves a night out with female companions whilst I love that she is not on aforementioned prowl and we can actually dance). I wore sky high heels (that puts me a great deal taller than most), black jeans and a backless floral top and approach the dance floor with extreme confidence. In my entanglement of whiskey, sweat and dancing I was approached by a significantly older man who offered me a drink, which I had to decline more out of the fact that I had just purchased a full glass of whiskey than of actual rejection, and told him he can enjoy his night furthermore ( a polite thank you and goodbye gesture on my behalf).
However, this did not deter the old sod (I’m speaking about a man in his healthy 60s where I remain firmly aged in the 20s category), he remained in place watching my friend and I dance for about 90 minutes, and as soon as my drink had reached the bottom had pounced like a lion in the Serengeti to the offer of another.
I simply couldn’t, I had decided that if I had said yes to this drink I may lead him on into thinking I’m interested, instead in a moment of alcohol induced panic I responded , “no thank you sir I don’t have daddy issues”. Needless to say the gentleman walked away and I self diagnosed myself with “foot-in-mouth disease” …. But hey what else was I meant to do?