Hopeless

Hopeless romantics scare me. Have you never been scarred from love? Please tell me what that is like if you are a hopeless romantic.

What does hopeless romantic even mean?

Since giving in to the love I feel for GG and accepting that I am loved and in love, I’ve been in a very sappy mood.

I’m daydreaming a bit more often, I’m seeing couples for the first time in ages and smiling at PDA’s instead of cringing. I’m lying on the sofa or in bed wishing that GG was with me on the nights I’m alone, and telling him so (I don’t ordinarily, because I’m a strong independent woman who doesn’t need a man). My independence has dive-bombed and I’m now looking ahead on how I can fill my free days with GG, planning dates and fun things to do, or just deciding to chill and eat some food before getting an early night. It is close to 8 months, yet the bedroom antics are as wild as ever.

I’m a firm believer that if a guy tells you he loves you after sex or alcohol, you have to give him the benefit of the doubt. That oxytocin has us all messed up.

GG and I have just spent the best part of a week with my son on the English coast. We’ve been camping. One night, after a particularly dirty bedroom session (I really can’t go into detail, because our sex life can be rather twisted and I am honestly ashamed of myself, but not so ashamed that I won’t do it again, you feel me?) GG says ‘ I fucking love you’.

It wasn’t immediately afterwards, and GG has been telling me he loves me for at least a month, so I allowed it. I replied ‘oh yeah? I love you more’. It was as simple and straight forward as that, but in the moment I said it, after nearly a week of watching him playing and supporting my son, hearing their laughter and seeing him nurture him, I couldn’t hold it in. It might also have been the oxytocin you see, but when I woke up the next day, I knew I’d meant it. As we packed all our stuff away and loaded the car and van up with our gear, me returning home and GG off to visit some friends to do some more camping, I did not want to say goodbye. I hugged him and I didn’t want to let go. I kissed him and I didn’t want to stop.

So, what is a hopeless romantic? Can a love cynic be turned? Because I think ya gal right here, miss independent pants who doesn’t need a man, who won’t give up her free time, who thinks the Menz are dogs and they deserve nothing, is becoming one.

Crazy Train pt4

Is there a Goldilocks zone for telling someone you love them? Too early and it’s just weird. Too late? Well, that’s my question. Can telling somebody that you love them ever be too late?

Please see Crazy Train Pt1 Crazy Train Pt2 and Crazy Train Pt3 for further context

GG told me he loved me on 11th July. That’s a month ago.

I still haven’t said those words to him. Partly because as you all know, ima but if a psychotic mess at times and I’m overthinking my feelings for him and I don’t want to say those three little words without meaning them and it doesn’t help when I have temptations thrown in my face and and and.

See all these excuses I’m making?

Truthfully though, what do those three little words even mean anyway if not backed up by actions? And this leads me onto a complaint, a very minor complaint, but still.

Gg fails to send me kisses on his goodnight texts and rarely texts good morning.

Now, in the grand scheme of telling me he loves me, organising weekend trips, making efforts to get to know my son, introducing me to his family, cooking my dinner and doing minor chores for me, you are thinking this is insignificant.

And you would be right. It is insignificant in the grand scheme of all those other things. But it’s the small things that really matter. Because I can do all those big things myself. I’m grateful for when he does them of course, and I appreciate him for those things, but it’s the little things that make the most impact.

Like little ‘post it’s’ randomly left.

Or finding my fave chocolate in the fridge

Or picking up those rare crisps you love that hardly anywhere sells

Or randomly sending me breakfast when I’m working at home and have a ton of stuff to do

Folding my laundry (I cannot explain just how much I despise this task)

Send good night and good morning texts. With Xx’s

Back scratches and tickles.

These are all things I have done or do for GG. And are worth way more than the three words ‘I love you’

And I know words of affirmation are some peoples love language. But it’s not mine. And it’s not GG’s.

I guess the thoughtfulness that was there in the beginning has started to wear off.

I wouldn’t mind but we haven’t even had an argument. 8 months!! This makes me suspicious…because it usually means he’s a bottler. The silent treatment type. The passive aggressive.

I had 13 years of it and let me tell you, it’s worse than yelling.

The crazy train continues….

Give me strength

Next Friday is going to be the biggest test of my life. All of the hard work I have put in trying to heal myself and make better choices in dating and follow the peace instead of the chaos and to not self sabotage and just go with what feels good, not with what feels exciting. It will be the ultimate finale on what feels like a long journey through self-love, self-acceptance and self-discipline. It will see me pitted against temptation and influence, the evils of sin. Like King Leonidas vs the Persian God King Xerxes, I will be leading the fight for all single women, kicking temptation into a hole, after exclaiming ‘This is Sparta’

Ok I’m getting carried away. Definitely over exaggerating. Ish.

I have a works do. An evening to finally celebrate retirements with those who have left us over the past 18 months. England has lifted almost all of its COVID measures to allow the world to start getting back to normal.

Which means laughter, dancing and booze. And Mr Big!

We have been working with each a bit over the last few weeks and all has been well. I’ve banished all romantic thoughts and feelings for him. And we have gotten along as we normally do, friendly, professional with the odd dirty joke thrown in for good measure.

So I wasn’t worried about the works do.

Until he said ‘you’re gonna be there Friday?’

‘Friday?’

‘Yeah, the leavers do’

‘Sure am’

And then he looks me up and down, maintains eye contact for just a second too long, throws me a wink and smiles!!!!!!!

Motherfucker.

Now, I’m not weak willed. In fact I’m bloody stubborn. Too stubborn.

I raised an eyebrow to him as he kicked the door open and said goodbye.

But if this mofo thinks for one minute he’s gonna be flirting with me on this evening and giving me fancy vibes and loving on me, then he has another thing coming. Let me tell ya!

But boozy me? Oh she’s not stubborn at all. She’s loving. And soft. And influential.

She’s the romancer, she’s the one who lets her guard down. She’s the chancer, the adventurer, the rebel too. She has no inhibitions, she’ll dance on tables, cuddle people, she’s touchy feely.

So for the past two days, I’ve been having an internal dialogue with myself

‘We want different things’

‘We work together’

‘He’s had his chance’

‘You have a boyfriend’

in the hope that when boozy me decides to show up, they will be firmly planted in her mind should Mr Big try anything ungentlemanly.

Of course, the easiest thing to do would be to take my boyfriend. Except, he’s on a stag do. Far away.

I could just not go? Not even an option.

I could not drink? Please.

Nope, I’m holding onto the fact I have grown and however thin that line maybe be, I’m confident I will not break it and undo all the lessons I have been learning.

I will not. I will not. I will not.

One from the archives… AD

I wrote this at the start of the new year. I didn’t post about all my dates because I’m weird, sometimes I just save drafts and go back to them to re-read. But this one is about Army Dude (AD) from Hinge who’s last parting words were ‘you still owe me a handjob’.

I got a date. Well, I got coffee. With a guy I started chatting to on t’interweb. I agreed to meet on a public car park like a misspent youth on my way home from work. Because lockdown. Because it’s public. Because I can stay in my car. Social distancing ergo keeping my distancing.

Initial thoughts Not too sure. He seems nice enough, cute. But also very forthright. I like it but if this is normal and not super excitement to meet me then I’m going to feel pressure. Soon. And I don’t do well with pressure.

My red flag radar is flapping in the cerebral wind, BUT, I’ve been out of the game so long, I could do with a refresher.

Because how am I supposed to know what looks and feels right if I don’t look and feel what’s wrong? Like trying to figure out a maths puzzle; Solid reasoning.

So off I went, my best friend armed with details in case nobody ever saw me again!

I read somewhere that two things you should consider after a date are these: if you wasn’t attracted to them, would you want them to be your friend? And do you like them or are you worrying about whether they like you.

Yes, I would want him to be my friend. And I do like him but I confess I have been wondering if he felt the same. I didn’t hear from him straight away and so I used that time to review.

The coffee lasted over 2 hours, and although there was lots of chatting, he asked very few questions. I had to offer info and tidbits about myself. He did make me laugh a lot though and I got a tour of his camper van. Which is called the fuck truck. No not a physical, physical tour, just a look round and I realise that meeting a guy on a car park in a van he calls the ‘fuck truck’ does sound a bit rapey in hindsight.

And although he was funny, I was crying with laughter at one point, he did discuss politics and religion. His 2 children also came up as did his hatred for his not-yet ex-wife. Separated but not yet divorced, I sensed some bitterness. He stated he hated her. I clarified if he meant indifferent, because we all know that is the opposite of love, and he remained resolute: hates the woman.

Bad choice for a mother then eh?

He’s in the army and spends his weeks down south, coming home at the weekends to see the children. I got a very understanding/fatherly vibe from him, although his daughter was clearly his favourite. I think first borns usually are though. No offence if you are number 2,3,4 but I’m here to tell you, mum and dad love you just as much, but nothing breaks the bond of the first born. The first born teaches you everything. Albeit a second born will challenge that.

He is definitely bangable. He’s cute, pretty fit with a full set of teeth.

Is he dateable though? Boundaries..

Investment: he was quite happy to come to me, 30 mins drive. He initiated the meet. He’s been very chatty all week, making sure he was the last person to text and the first person I wake up to. I left him a voice note because he sulked a bit that I wasn’t chatty enough, he didn’t response with one or a phone call but I did get the date. We met, he put me at ease straight away and a comfortable comfort fell over me. We sat in our cars for a bit and then I sat in his van because having the windows open in -2 was giving us both frostbite! His body language was hard to gauge, very little eye contact, he had a fairly open body stance but was rarely facing towards me and when I playfully grabbed him arm after he laughed at me, he didn’t respond, although he did hold his hand out to help me climb out of his fuck truck.

Communication: has been great all week. Asking questions, wanting to be the first and last person To text with his good night and good morning texts. Little hints at how pretty I am and pet names which have abruptly stopped so now we know there is absolutely no stock in a man giving you a pet name! Last night though, meh. Very few questions. He talked a lot which I am fine with as it took the pressure off me and I did laugh a lot as a result of it, which is like medicine for the soul, especially right now.

Friendship was more difficult to gauge. I’m not looking for my best friend, I’m looking for a partner. I want somebody who is my equal and is going to help me build as much as I want to help them build. I sensed a degree of selfishness, nothing specific I can describe, just a gut feeling. He has tried to bring up sexy time stuff twice, both times I knocked him back with my ‘you have mistaken me for somebody many more dates in’. He didn’t seem to take the hint or just ignored it, because the only compliment I got on the date was that I have a nice bum. I mean I’ll take them as compliments, but I’m also beautiful and funny. And smart.

Flirting. Zero! I touched his arm and he did not respond. This could be related to his job. I know that working in the military is full of horrors. And although I have not seen anywhere near the death and destruction he must have witnessed, I appreciate the need to cover the bad stuff with humour. Lots of dark humour and avoidance. It’s a defence mechanism for self preservation & nothing to with the poor victims. But if carries over too far into your life, you’ll never connect again.

He was definitely chivalrous. A gentleman, although most people are on their best behaviour on a date, however if chivalry is not something you practice often, then I doubt it would come as naturally as it did for him. There wasn’t much in the way of emotional resolve I felt. Again, probably from his career choice but bottling up and plastering everything with humour tape will only cover the cracks, it won’t prevent you from splitting apart.

Overall I would give the date 6/10. The humour was clearly hiding a lot of trauma on top of his divorce from his wife who he was holding a lot of hate for still. I’m sympathetic, she was unfaithful. Having your heart broken is an excellent reason for hating someone. But usually, being unfaithful is the symptom, not the cause and both parties probably need to face some harsh reality/truths. As he is laying it all squarely at her feet, I don’t feel like he has the growth mindset I am looking for.

The date ended him walking me back to my car, he opened my door and held it open, chivalrous, he suggested next time we should involve alcohol and food. I didn’t agree, but I did point out I had wine in my car which could have been put to good use although I’d had a lot of fun without it anyway. Would have totally kissed him if it wasn’t for this sodding pandemic, he lingered so I guess he was debating it himself.

The chat since our date has been quite flat and although he is totally bangable, I can’t see this having any legs long-term. I suspect I’m a 3 date challenge to him but he’s going to be sorely disappointed because we’re not even going to make it to date 2.

Crazy Train Pt3

‘When love is not madness, it is not love’

How much do you guys agree with this statement?

I’m not sure. I’ve had loves that have their own kind of madness. Not all of these loves have resulted in a relationship. I’ve loved people from afar. And I’ve been in relationships that have been all-consuming.

The all-consuming loves bring excitement and electricity and wonder and yearning and desire and and and.

But my most successful loves (despite them ending, because life happens) have not been all-consuming. They are steady. And secure. They are peaceful, low energy. Safe.

But I’m not the kind of person who would be satisfied by that for an entire life. I need the adventure and excitement like I need my next breath.

I love GG. I haven’t told him. I’m scared that I recognise that the relationship we have, as wonderful as it is, does not fulfil me in adventure and excitement.

It’s really hard to change habits you know. Self sabotage when it has been life-long is a tricky one to curb. My head knows that what we have together is beautiful. Im grateful for it. It’s peaceful. And lord knows after the up and down few years of dating I’ve had, peaceful is what I need.

My head also knows I love him. But my heart and my body just isn’t catching up. I’m logical by nature. My head always overrules my emotions and in most cases that is the right way to approach things. I think?

But how do you will the heart and body along.

I’m comparing again, and I know I shouldn’t. And this is a moot point because neither happened. But how would I be feeling today if this 7 month relationship had been with either FD or Mr Big? Would I even be questioning my feelings?

A big fat NOPE!

So why am I doing it with GG? It’s unfair. I’m unfair. I’m being unfair.

And I can’t be sure I’m looking for reasons here, I’m almost drawing up a pro’s and cons list which is also unfair. I mean, I’d feel pretty shit if it was the other way round, but considering all of the amazing qualities of GG, there really are very few bad bits. Except….there’s a distinct lack of spontaneity. And it’s the spontaneity that I think the quote at the start of this blog refers to. Not crazy in love; I’m not talking about the love that makes you wonder if they are into you. Where they are. Who they are with. The double/triple/quadruple texts. I’m talking about the madness that makes people elope to far away places for shotgun weddings. The madness that makes people vulnerable to being hurt when they’ve not allowed it before. The madness of riding 100 down a motorway with wind in your hair and 1200CC’s between your legs (a motorbike metaphor). The madness of wanting to rip each other’s clothes off at any given moment.

Is it really too much to want to be slammed over the kitchen side whilst I’m making toad-in-the-hole?

Just wouldn’t cross GG’s mind even though it does mine. And I tell him. Often.

The struggle (even though it shouldn’t exist) continues…

Crazy Train Pt2

It’s dark. GG is drunk.

I’m already reeling from the introspection of the last 3 seconds before he finally blurts out what I have been sensing and therefore trying to sabotage for the last few weeks.

I don’t respond immediately. Aside from the fact I’ve just taken a moment to reflect and accurately recognise my selfish behaviour, I’m also conscious that GG is feeling 9 beers brave.

‘Oh, you feeling brave tonight. Is that because of the beer?’ I ask.

Yeah, I’ve been wanting to tell you for a while, but only now do I have the courage’

‘Hmmm’ i murmur, because I don’t know what else to say. This isn’t a conversation I want to be having at nearly 2am on a Monday morning and I especially don’t want to be having it knowing he is drunk and may not remember too well when we do wake up.

So I kiss him enthusiastically, because regardless of how I feel about all this, knowing somebody loves you is incredible. He doesn’t ask me for an answer or push me for any response in kind and then we drift off, with my arms and legs wrapped around him in what I call the koala bear snuggle.

I open my eyes to the harsh sunlight coming through the windows. I take a peep across the bed and GG is awake. Before me. This is rare.

I smile. He leans over and kisses my forehead saying good morning. I know he’s hungover, so I tell him I’ll go make the tea. With extra sugar.

We spend the morning doing what young couples in love do, showered, made breakfast and watched the rabbit hole that is YouTube. He invites me stay for lunch to meet his friend. And his dad, but I realise I haven’t re-lined the kitty litter and kitty needs feeding so I need to get home.

I can’t decide if this is a brilliant stroke of luck as an excuse to get out of there or if I’ve genuinely got concerns for my cat who has survived 12 whole years, mostly fending for himself. Either way, the cat is allowing me to dodge yet another situation I’m not quite ready for.

But before I leave, I can’t not say anything. Because then I really would be THE worst.

I’ve slept on it. I’ve had all morning to think about how I feel about him.

So I ask ‘are you still feeling 9 beers brave?’

‘How do you mean?’

‘Well, last night you told me you love me. Do you remember?’

‘Yes. And I mean it. I love you’

I smile at him. ‘I’m not very good at being vulnerable and talking about my feelings. But I’m crazy about you and I’m very happy you are in my life. It’s just gonna take me a little while longer’

Crazy Train Pt1

All aboard.

So this week has been a deep dive into a world of vulnerability. Vulnerability that was unexpected and that I was not ready for.

It all started on Tuesday when GG gave me the key to his house. I say key. GG, the big bloody geek, has a digital door lock. The kind that does not need a key, just a fob. Or an app.

Yes. I said an app. I’m not tech-averse, but if it ain’t broken, don’t try fixing it, ya know?

Anyway, I digress. GG handed me the instructions to download said app. I did. I tested it. It worked. I now have unlimited access to his house. His sanctuary. His safe space.

After a few questions about boundaries and when I can and cannot use it (there aren’t any) I said, ‘this is a pretty big deal’. GG said, and I quote ‘we’ve been seeing each other for 6/7 months, I’m ready for this. You don’t have to be, I’m not saying I need a key to yours, but I’m there’.

Then, I had the worlds longest day on Friday, I had to complete a 3 day audit in 1 day. I was at work for well over 12 hours, but I got the job done. I rock up at GG’s house at 11pm to find he has ran me a bubble bath, lit some candles, switched on the diffuser and poured me a glass of wine.

Stay with me here, I’m not finished.

Last night, we watched the Euro Final. With us both being big football fans and knowing the high stakes that came with seeing England in a final, we made a Sunday roast and then settled down to watch the game. Heartache ensued. C’est La Vie. But by the time the game finished, GG had sank 9 bottles of beer. Too distraught from the game, and very drunk, we went to bed. At some point, we found ourselves looking at the clock and it was 1:20am, wayyyyy past my bedtime. Luckily, neither of us have work today. But GG rolls over to me and says ‘can I tell you something?’

Of course, I reply.

And suddenly I know what’s coming and in those spilt seconds, I realise I have been expecting it. The whole last couple of weeks of my own behaviour, the questioning, the overthinking, the sense that something isn’t quite right has just been a subconscious reaction to what was about to happen; to what I was preparing myself to hear. I already knew what was about to spill out of his mouth and have known for a while as he says;

‘I Love You’

Temporary Madness

I’m the worst person in the world. THE worst.

In the same week that GG gave me a key to his house (!!!) and where he had a bubble bath waiting for me with candles after the worlds longest day at work, I decided it would be a good idea to test the waters with Mr Big.

I got the reaction I was expecting, it’s a one way street to casualville. I’m learning that the sooner I speak up, the less likely I am to spiral into overthinking. So now I have my answer.

And I thought about whether it is possible to break habits? My contentment with GG is what is making me happy right now and I should chalk the feelings I have been having over the few weeks as a temporary blip.

Slowly learning to recognise and experience what is a good thing as opposed to just imagining what it should be in my head.

Revelation

Let’s make this quick.

Profound levels of understanding about myself don’t happen very often. But I think, I THINK, that I have stumbled across one.

I will happily go 2, maybe 3 years living the single life, enjoying what it has to offer. But because the men I choose have similar outlooks to me, I tend not to have any deep or meaningful connection with them. Over time this leads to lowering self-esteem and I get to a point where I need validation that I’m worthy of more than sex. Or worth more than an ego boost to these men. So I get to a point where I meet people who are nice and safe who I have to build slow burns with because I’m not immediately attracted to them and therefore I know I can’t get hurt because I won’t have feelings for them.

But by doing it, I have proven myself worthy of being somebody’s girlfriend and thus builds my self-esteem. Then after a few months of re-building, I’m like ‘this isn’t for me’ because I want the passion, the crush, the desire that comes with somebody exciting.

But the exciting ones never want any form of commitment.

This is my pattern.

This is it guys and gals!