Sunday, 5 January 2014

Cheats, bores and ragu makers

I'm not the luckiest in love (even though now I seem to have struck gold) and as a general rule I tend to have somewhat shabby taste in the opposite sex...
Like most of you, I have many a toe-curling story to tell about my *ahem* love life. Throughout the years I've developed unrequited obsessions, been on the receiving end of unrequited obsessions, been lied to, been cheated on, been ignored, been disgusted by my own choice of partner, been out with people I didn't even fancy, been interested in twins (on separate occasions), and gone for drinks with many an unsuitable suitor. I've experienced boys that kiss like llamas, ones that kiss like nuns... I've once hidden under my mum's bed rather than confront an extremely keen neighbour. A particular highlight was going back to someone's flat for a 'friendly drink' (yeah, I know I'm stupid), and him going to 'freshen up' and coming back in what can only be described as a floor length robe (an event which will now be eternally embedded in me and ma pals' minds as 'Kaftan Cuddles'), going to visit an ex in Paris (and let me clarify here that not only had he invited me, but that he'd insisted I book my flights for those particular dates) and him having exams on that he hadn't told me about so the whole time I was there he 'couldn't hang out, sorry,' being put off a boy because his favourite genre of joke was toilet humour (which makes me gag), and being pursued by someone who lived round the corner from me who would text me stuff like, 'looking nice today' EVERY SINGLE TIME I walked past his house. Honestly.
Reflection on all these shambolic boiz, added to obsessively re-reading my old diaries for two days solid made me want to compile a little taster list of some of my very worst love interests (bit too strong a word for most of them.) I found four PG examples of how badly my initial judgement on boys can sometimes be... (Once again, I've blurred most of the boys' names out so that they need not hang their heads in shame unless they really want to. A guilty conscience has no hiding place after all...)

Let's start out with a short and sweet classic, shall we?

Example 1 Sometimes they wouldn't even show up:

Poor little Silvy in her sad little pyjamas.

Example 2 Sometimes they'd already have girlfriends, and would just... fail to mention this... (Ooooh this is one of the most annoying things that can happen, and this particular charmer was amongst the very, very worst of the shady characters I ever dealt with):

My god, was he annoying. Added to that, he was one of those idiots who'd see you on campus or something and not say hey (completey FINE by me), but then text you later that day to say, 'saw you today.' ARGH! He continued to do that for a few months until one night I saw him out and told him he was a prick and to stop contacting me. He did. Eventually.

Example 3: Then we have the one that just wouldn't take no for an answer...
(I warn you in advance- this is a LONG story, so skip the first 7 pages if you're not interested in the backstory pre-disaster-date!) 

(I really am sorry that this one is so long, but I wanted you to grasp just how many millions of times he asked me to go for coffee before I agreed...)

And finally... Sometimes they'd be so fucking unbearably boring that it'd turn me into a monster:

So that's that.

This is really only a tiny fraction of my dating disasters, and I'm sure there'll be more (not for ages though, J.G.!)
It does make me think that maybe, just maybe, the problem might actually be mine. I am fussy, and I do tend to fabricate problems where there might not necessarily need to be problems, but... it's all part o' the story, isn't it?
And for now, all of this really just makes me appreciate the fact that I'm with someone who doesn't make me cringe (very often), someone who doesn't wear weird stuff to unwind in (just the occasional checked pyjama bottom), and most importantly someone who doesn't make me act like a complete lunatic just to avoid seeing him.

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