If I am to have any hope of blogging in to the future I am going to have to start writing things down.
Sometimes I do write things down but more often than not a thought pops into my head while I am having a conversation or when I am in bed, then by the time I am ready to sit down and write, I can’t remember any of them. It is so bloody annoying.
This week has been a prime example of that. I quite clearly remember sitting on the toilet and thinking of something that I thought would be perfect for a blog. Now though, even if my life depended on it, I wouldn’t be able to remember what that was.
How can I remember that I was on the toilet while I had the thought but not remember the thought itself?
So anyway with my thoughts all disappearing into the ether I shall ramble on.
I am bored, again. I go through phases of this, it is quite normal. For me at least.
Not bored of anything in particular just bored in general. I suppose you could say I am slightly more bored with men than I am bored with anything else though.
I am finding Tom and Elsie a little bit difficult to deal with too and that doesn’t help. I am more than a little bored of the constant arguing, moaning and their general lacklustre for anything not related to them. Tom is driving is us all mad with his obsession for fortnite (for those of you who do not have teenage boys or have been under a rock for the last few months this is a video game), it has completely taken over his life.
We have become a shouty house, almost overnight.
Tom shouts loudly and aggressively at his TV in frustration at the game (and our apparently useless internet), Elsie shouts at him because she can hear him over her TV and she is fed up with it and I shout at them both because they are shouting at each other and it is just generally pissing me off.
I have recently taken to banning him from the game but I don’t know what is worse, Tom playing fortnite or Tom not being allowed to play fortnite. Either way seems equally painful to be honest.
Sunday I had a date. It was a very warm day and sweat is not a good look on a woman, not at the dinner table anyway. At one point I thought I might melt and not because of his charm although he was giving it 110%.
I thought this was going to be an easy date. We had been chatting for a few days and seemed to be getting on well, we mostly talked on the telephone rather than messaging, which actually was a breath of fresh air but when the date came around the conversation was not altogether free-flowing
He was very flirty and it has to be said that throughout the date he invaded my space quite a bit. He touched me a lot and although I wasn’t necessarily uncomfortable with this, I did feel a little of centre. I am uncomfortable with too much closeness too soon. I am not in any way tactile.
In that weird way that is very me. I can’t mix and match. If I book you for sex we will have sex but if I book you for a date then a date is what I expect. I am very clear in my instruction. I always ask in advance what type of date we will be having I can not deal with an ever-changing situation, I need to be fully in agreement beforehand about what is expected and I do not do touchy feely.
I do not expect my men to be overly flirtatious. Whilst I like it to be clear that they have some intention I much prefer the thought to be spoken. For me the ease with which you find it comfortable to be completely at ease with someone, where you will want to touch them and are able to flirt unashamedly, be blatant or just plain naughty does not come on a first date.
The difference between a date where sex has been discussed in advanced is that you are both aware and in complete agreement. You have decided between you that if you meet and you like each other that you will have sex.
Hunter was one of those dates. There were no mixed signals, we both knew what we were aiming for and we were both in agreement. There was no need for us to be anything other than ourselves. We met, we had a few drinks, we talked and although we joked a bit we kept the conversation light, he asked if I was happy and I said I was. We went back to his, simple.
It was one of the best nights I have had in a long time.
However, my date on Sunday was more complicated. Why? Simply because we were supposed to be meeting for dinner nothing else. There had been no obvious flirting beforehand, absolutely no mention of sex and although we had talked about what we were looking for, loosely, it had all been very casual. Almost too casual.
This meant that I found his overtly sexual flirting difficult. In other ways we seemed to be doing ok, he was a year older than me and so we had very similar music and movie memories, grew up in the same area and had some common interests but I could not get to grips with the fact that he seemed to be undressing me with his eyes and looked like he wanted to eat me for lunch instead of his very nice looking Roast Beef.
In spite of all this I enjoyed the date, although the conversation could have been better but when he was being normal and we were just chatting it was just like every other date I have been on. Nice.
We have been in contact since but something was not right. He has phoned me and I have phoned him and we have chatted but it just seems that we have it all round the wrong way. We have somehow ended up in that zone where you are overly polite to each other. We ask how our days have been and if we slept well. It’s boring and mundane and it is almost like we feel obliged to message each other.
This morning, after a lovely long lie in, yes it’s the holidays again. I was almost dreading the ‘good morning’ text. It’s only Tuesday, we have got to make it to Friday with this. I feel like I have been given a life sentence already.
Pouring a strong coffee I dutifully messaged back a good morning and asked how his day was going, while wanting to shoot myself in the head for not just saying, actually, I am really sorry but I’m really not feeling this.
A couple of mundane messages later and it was my turn again. Oh. This is painful. I read his message. which told me he was off to the garage to grab a bite to eat and asked me what I was going to be up to today but I couldn’t even muster a reply. I must have taken far too long to think about it as the next thing I know I have another message.
It says: I’m really sorry but I just not feeling it between us, you are lovely though and I hope you find what you are looking for. Take care xx
My immediate feeling was one of enormous relief. I was off the hook. I instantly replied thanking him for being honest and admitting that it was clear we were not exactly setting the world alight. I to wished him all the best and then deleted him from my life without so much as a backward glance.
Set up my laptop and logged in to check my messages. What have I turned in to?
It has made me think this morning though. I was beginning to wonder if people were becoming too fussy. Everyone is looking for an ideal, a fantasy, something that no one has any hope of living up to but we are simply just looking for someone to light our fire.
No one sets out to look for ordinary.
For me, the older I get the less I want to take chances.
I don’t want to waste time with someone who may or may not be, I want to be sure. Of course I am not talking about sex here, sex is different. It can be with whoever, whenever, if you so desire and sometimes I do but my forever guy, if indeed there is such a thing, he will have to be quite something.
I want the fairytale, there I’ve said it out loud.