The Sailor

February 28, 2014 § Leave a comment

A few days ago, some old embers burst back into flame. Or back to the UK at least. I thought I’d be safe in Rome from English boys, yet somehow they’ve all managed to worm their way into my life in one form or another.

I know a few readers who’d be very interested in this post, but for those of you who don’t know me personally, let me fill you in. The sailor was somewhat of a rebound relationship. I’d recently broken up with my one and only long-term boyfriend, when a friend texted me and asked me if I was ‘looking for a 2 week fling with a sailor’?

Abso-bloody-lutely.

Things were a little awkward upon meeting for the first time, but, as so often seems to happen, the mood was soon shifted due to large quantities of wine and vodka. An evening of intimacy with the man in question did in fact lead to a rather fantastic couple of weeks, in which I was wined and dined (to put it classily) to my heart’s content. I think because of the briefness of our affair, as well as the way that it ended being due to factors neither of us could control (his being shipped off to Asia for the best part of a year), I have always held something of a tender spot for this guy.

We exchanged emails for the first few weeks he was abroad, but there being very few Wi-Fi hotspots in the centre of the ocean, our correspondence soon died out and we both moved on. That is, until, he arrived back in England, tugging my heartstrings back home once again. However, there is an issue.

If you’ve followed closely, you might have read a post detailing a one-night-stand with an acquaintance just over a month ago. Well this acquaintance so happens to be a pretty good friend of the sailor’s. Well done me! At the time it didn’t even cross my mind, but now that he’s back there’s the possibility it may cause ripples in any reunification that might otherwise have happened. Now, I fully accept that night being of my (albeit intoxicated) decision, and so must accept the consequences. I’m sure if the roles were reversed I wouldn’t be best pleased if he’d drunkenly gallivanted off with one of my girlfriends. I’ve no idea how he will react, but part of me is wondering if this is how it’s meant to go.

Regretful sex with his buddy aside, I have very conflicting emotions about his return. Being in Italy I’ve managed to slyly escape any conflict, but what if I were to face him? Part of me wants to pick up where we left off last summer, but then another part of me thinks I’m a rather different person to who I was then, so would it be the same? I get the feeling it’d be a desperate attempt to recreate the infatuation that an allotted timeframe creates, and that in endeavouring to prolong it we would only taint the memories.

Is it perhaps best left to a lovely thing of the past? Something pleasant to look back upon when I’m old and grey (or young and lonely…), or will I forever speculate about a relationship that never was?

Anyone else been in this situation? When should you go back, or when is it best to simply leave these things as an affection of the past?

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Looking back

January 18, 2014 § 3 Comments

So being thrown in at the deep end of a new country, my dating life has been put on hold (hopefully only briefly!), so I thought now might be a good time to look back at an old flame or two and examine what exactly my relationship with them (if you can call it that..) taught me, and therefore what new knowledge I should be taking with me into the next one.
Being in Italy has made me think of one past lad in particular, as he was Italian, and I keep seeing men who look very similar. I’ve also recently found out he’s seeing someone new, which is always enough to prompt completely irrational thought (WHAT’S SHE GOT THAT I DON’T?! etc). We’ll call him the fireman.
The fireman and I got off to a wonderful start. There was an attraction, he asked for my number, contacted me almost immediately and asked me out. Our dates were wonderful. I think the fireman took me on the best first date I’ve ever been on, not due to any fancy location or meal, but just because there seemed to be so much chemistry between us.
This continued onto dates two, three and four, in which things progressed in various manners, at such pace that I genuinely thought I’d have a boyfriend before too long.
It was after this point that fireman became extremely evasive. Now, I’d been recently burned before seeing him (idiot who didn’t call yadda yadda), so I was desperately swallowing my paranoia that he wanted nothing to do with me after we’d slept together. And how did I deal with this? Obviously in the most mature and sensible manner: I started sending dirty texts to grab his attention. That’s allowed right? (No sweetie, no it isn’t)
And what do you know, Mr. Unavailable became suddenly available again! For all of about 30 seconds. In which time we’d had time for an apology and a shag. After that I might have seen him twice more, one of those being accidentally bumping into him in a club. I swiftly ended it (I say swiftly, I held out for as long as possible in the hope that he’d come running back to me), with part of me wishing he’d make some case for himself, saying that he really did want this to work, but I received no such reply. He was perfectly pleasant, telling me how sorry he was and that it was all his fault, although never once did he try and win me back.
I wish I could say that that was that, that if he wasn’t willing to put in the effort or try to make me NOT feel like crap, then I wouldn’t spare him a second thought, but I do still think about him. I know it’s probably because although I technically ended it, he had all the control in our brief time together, and that made me feel so helpless. I’ve been tempted so many times to text him but I know that will do no good. You can tell yourself so many times that someone isn’t right for you, which deep down somewhere I know is true, but that doesn’t stop the horrid wave of despair when you find out he’s moved on (even though I have no leg to stand on on that front!).
I think the only thing to do in these situations is delete their number (rid yourself of the temptation!), think about something positive that’s come out of it (I’m sure it has made me stronger although I’m certainly not feeling like that right now..), and look forward. I’m in motherfucking Italy, surrounded by gorgeous foreigners, and he’s stuck in rainy ol’ england with some needy bitch, who I’m clearly way prettier than and better than in bed. So screw you fireman, I’m far better off!!!! (At some point I’ll start to believe these words, right?)

Starting point

November 29, 2013 § Leave a comment

So one of the hardest things about writing a blog, I have discovered, is where to begin. The subject matter was unfortunately always clear to me as my main interests right now seem to begin and end with men (darn hormones). Even so I will undoubtedly want to edit this post as soon as it is published but I will try my best to restrain myself as it is more genuine (as well as the more likely, badly written..) when it is written in one flawed flourish.

This is a quick introduction – although for a host of reasons I’m not divulging my readers with my identity at this point. Those of you who do know me will invariably know who I’m referring to, but I think it’s generally best not to name-and-shame on the internet!

I thought I’d begin, rather predictably, but nonetheless necessary, with a brief history of my dating life, and, being the ripe young age of 19, believe me it’s brief!

At 17, I had a boyfriend for roughly a year. Which had it’s invariable ups and downs including a 2 break ups, the loss of my virginity, and an ‘I love you’ that meant nothing to either of us. I am speaking for him in saying that as I know he will find something more than what we had, although he may well fervently deny it now.

Post him, I felt the need to see older men (the boyfriend being almost a year my junior), as I felt the ending was dealt with extraordinarily immaturely, putting me off teenage boys for good. My exploits of the past 6 odd months have included a two week fling with a man of the navy, an unfortunate one night stand and several months of being ignored by an Italian fireman (I know, right, it’s almost worth being ignored for that..). But although seemingly unsuccessful when written in bullet points like that, I have had a lot of fun and experienced some necessary evils in my encounters with each of them. I believe it has at least made me a little wiser to the wiles of the male sex.

I will perhaps in later posts examine some of these past flings in retrospect to see exactly what it is I may have learnt from them, but as for the future, I have a date on Wednesday with a MUCH older man. I won’t disclose by how much right now, but it’s bordering on the unacceptable. Until Wednesday!

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