Knowing I did the right thing does not mean I won't regret having to do it. I've just got into work and realised that I won't be getting any more little emails from him during the day - seeing one from a couple of days ago still lurking in my inbox gave me a little moment of regret.
In the weirdest twist, it was the Aussie Surfer who was offering me the shoulder to cry on if needed last night. A couple of days ago, we were dating too, and somewhere along the line the transition to friend was fast and total. As it happened, Hannah stepped up to that mark, and there was a lot of wine and millionaire shortbread last night, but the offer was still appreciated, if unexpected. I do feel a little like a bad rom-com plot at the moment though!
Thursday 29 September 2011
Wednesday 28 September 2011
The Deed Is Done
Well, I've done it. As 1 minute and 26 second conversations go, it was horrible. How can I feel so bad in such a short time? The basics were said, and then I ran out of words. I tried to explain but I couldn't get past "you're great, but the spark has gone for me". I can only hope he feels better about this than I do.
So in the space of 24 hours, I've gone from seeing 2 men to none. That just leaves the unknown variable that is Army Guy left for tomorrow's surf club. Other than that - I'm back at square 1. Single.
I realised as I walked home from work why I've agonised over breaking with City Boy and it boils down to this - in the space of 2 months I've become used to the security blanket that is having admiration and affection from a constant source. I've felt great about myself, because something external has been reinforcing that I'm attractive and fun to spend time with.
I just need to bear in mind that I have not changed in the last 24 hours - I am still that worthwhile person. It's just that my situation has changed.
- Posted from my iPhone
So in the space of 24 hours, I've gone from seeing 2 men to none. That just leaves the unknown variable that is Army Guy left for tomorrow's surf club. Other than that - I'm back at square 1. Single.
I realised as I walked home from work why I've agonised over breaking with City Boy and it boils down to this - in the space of 2 months I've become used to the security blanket that is having admiration and affection from a constant source. I've felt great about myself, because something external has been reinforcing that I'm attractive and fun to spend time with.
I just need to bear in mind that I have not changed in the last 24 hours - I am still that worthwhile person. It's just that my situation has changed.
- Posted from my iPhone
Tuesday 27 September 2011
Totally Confused
I am completely and utterly confused.
As an official relationship dunce (i.e. I usually run screaming in the opposite direction of potential interested men), this whole making-an-effort thing is crippling me. With doubts. With second guessing. With the temptation to cheat and just settle.
I never got why some people would rather be in any relationship than alone. I was happy to be by myself. Well, not happy - obviously, I wanted to find that one special person that everything would be magic with (yeah, I've watched too many cute American rom-coms, I admit it), but until then I wasn't willing to compromise.
So when it wasn't perfect, I'd go. Make myself scarce, pull away, and run. No connections, no consideration, just go. Why be vulnerable if it wasn't absolutely worth it. Or necessary.
This time round in the dating arena, I've taken a slightly different approach. As counselled by various friends, I've given my dates more of a chance. Unless I was absolutely sure they weren't right for me on the first date (sorry Ed!), I've seen them again. Some made it to the third date, and I knew, and they went.
Here's something you might not know about me: I absolutely hate dumping people. Seriously hate it. I agonise over it, not wanting to hurt their feelings. Always have, and I suspect I always will. Even after a third date, I feel bad about it. I put it off, knowing it's inevitable, but thinking it might just happen of its own accord anyway. Usually during that time, I manage to dig myself in deeper instead, and ultimately make it a little tiny bit harder for myself. That's why getting involved with people sucks - there's always dumping in there somewhere.
I can honestly say that I would much prefer to be dumped that have to do it. True - it's only happened once, but I could see it coming as soon as the phone call began, and I was able to make it easy for him, and painless for both of us, and I'm not kidding when say I could hear the utter relief in his voice. Other than that, I fear I turn into a manipulator who gently prods the situation into a mutual decision to end it, by distancing myself.
Now, however, I find myself for the first time, in a situation where I've lost count of how many dates we've been on - in fact, scrap "dates" because going round to theirs for Sunday roast and tv doesn't even count as that .... it's in the scary unknown territory that's fearfully close to "relationship". It's a slipperly slope that I'm teetering at the top of, and I'm lost. It should be easy from here, just to gracefully step forward and slide into something comfortable, but I can't make myself do it. This guy, City Boy, treats me so well, like a princess; he is complimentary, caring, and I'm convinced would be the perfect boyfriend. But my heart's not there in it. How can it be fair on him, when I'm constantly wondering if there's something better out there for me? When I'm already picking holes and problems in it? When I've already decided that he won't get on with my friends and we don't have enough in common?
Here's the rub - I'm now starting to understand those relationship junkies, I think. It's not the relationship that's addictive, as such. It's the feeling of being spoilt and cosseted and wanted and desired. It's so tempting to keep seeing him, and let him continue to like me and treat me well, while I keep an eye on what else there is. But I can't, because that is not at all honest, and I am not a user.
I am stronger, and better, than that. City Boy deserves more than that - what he's chasing in me, in our little "relationship" is a sham, because I'm not in the same place he is. He should be able to search for someone who honestly feels the same way he does. I should be big enough, and brave enough, to set him free to do that.
On the flip-side of the dating game, Aussie Surfer just texted me to say something similar. He thinks I'm great, but isn't feeling the spark. In our case, he asks can we be friends, and I find myself oddly relieved. In all respects, I really should like him. By which, I mean fancy the pants off him. We have hilarious dates, similar humour and can chat absolute 100% honest bollocks for hours. And then there's his accent which is awesome - is it wrong to fancy someone just because they're Australian? But somehow, somewhere, it's just not quite there. I felt a little disappointment when I read his text, but I think it was disappointment in myself for not being "there" not in his reaction. In truth, I'm glad we can be friends, because I think it'll be a lot of fun. And I can go surfing with him (maybe, if I ever actually learn how to surf properly). Sod's law also dictates that I end up fancying him now, because the pressure to do so has gone.
So somehow, in the space of one evening, I've gone from worrying about 3 blokes to just dealing with one.
The one left is Army Guy. We got on really well on the first date, but yet again, it felt like a bit of a lack of spark. What I can't work out with him though, is whether that was at least partly due to the fact that we'd chatted a lot online and by text before we actually met, which usually means there's a big preconception to be dismantled when you meet them in person, and also due to the fact that I was already worrying / agonising about the City Boy / Aussie Surfer situation and what I should do.
Army Guy has joined my surf club, which I already knew before the first date. We agreed at that point, that if the dating didn't work, we'd just be friends, because we'd be seeing each other around the club. I haven't seen him since the first date, but funny enough we've chatted fairly incessantly. I guess we'll see how that translates into a second meeting on Thursday.
****
After a quick mid-post phone call to my friend, she concurs that I need to do the honest thing with City Boy and finish it now. Tomorrow is D-Day, when I'll have to phone and tell him. It's going to suck, but I need to do it.
And then there will be one.
As an official relationship dunce (i.e. I usually run screaming in the opposite direction of potential interested men), this whole making-an-effort thing is crippling me. With doubts. With second guessing. With the temptation to cheat and just settle.
I never got why some people would rather be in any relationship than alone. I was happy to be by myself. Well, not happy - obviously, I wanted to find that one special person that everything would be magic with (yeah, I've watched too many cute American rom-coms, I admit it), but until then I wasn't willing to compromise.
So when it wasn't perfect, I'd go. Make myself scarce, pull away, and run. No connections, no consideration, just go. Why be vulnerable if it wasn't absolutely worth it. Or necessary.
This time round in the dating arena, I've taken a slightly different approach. As counselled by various friends, I've given my dates more of a chance. Unless I was absolutely sure they weren't right for me on the first date (sorry Ed!), I've seen them again. Some made it to the third date, and I knew, and they went.
Here's something you might not know about me: I absolutely hate dumping people. Seriously hate it. I agonise over it, not wanting to hurt their feelings. Always have, and I suspect I always will. Even after a third date, I feel bad about it. I put it off, knowing it's inevitable, but thinking it might just happen of its own accord anyway. Usually during that time, I manage to dig myself in deeper instead, and ultimately make it a little tiny bit harder for myself. That's why getting involved with people sucks - there's always dumping in there somewhere.
I can honestly say that I would much prefer to be dumped that have to do it. True - it's only happened once, but I could see it coming as soon as the phone call began, and I was able to make it easy for him, and painless for both of us, and I'm not kidding when say I could hear the utter relief in his voice. Other than that, I fear I turn into a manipulator who gently prods the situation into a mutual decision to end it, by distancing myself.
Now, however, I find myself for the first time, in a situation where I've lost count of how many dates we've been on - in fact, scrap "dates" because going round to theirs for Sunday roast and tv doesn't even count as that .... it's in the scary unknown territory that's fearfully close to "relationship". It's a slipperly slope that I'm teetering at the top of, and I'm lost. It should be easy from here, just to gracefully step forward and slide into something comfortable, but I can't make myself do it. This guy, City Boy, treats me so well, like a princess; he is complimentary, caring, and I'm convinced would be the perfect boyfriend. But my heart's not there in it. How can it be fair on him, when I'm constantly wondering if there's something better out there for me? When I'm already picking holes and problems in it? When I've already decided that he won't get on with my friends and we don't have enough in common?
Here's the rub - I'm now starting to understand those relationship junkies, I think. It's not the relationship that's addictive, as such. It's the feeling of being spoilt and cosseted and wanted and desired. It's so tempting to keep seeing him, and let him continue to like me and treat me well, while I keep an eye on what else there is. But I can't, because that is not at all honest, and I am not a user.
I am stronger, and better, than that. City Boy deserves more than that - what he's chasing in me, in our little "relationship" is a sham, because I'm not in the same place he is. He should be able to search for someone who honestly feels the same way he does. I should be big enough, and brave enough, to set him free to do that.
On the flip-side of the dating game, Aussie Surfer just texted me to say something similar. He thinks I'm great, but isn't feeling the spark. In our case, he asks can we be friends, and I find myself oddly relieved. In all respects, I really should like him. By which, I mean fancy the pants off him. We have hilarious dates, similar humour and can chat absolute 100% honest bollocks for hours. And then there's his accent which is awesome - is it wrong to fancy someone just because they're Australian? But somehow, somewhere, it's just not quite there. I felt a little disappointment when I read his text, but I think it was disappointment in myself for not being "there" not in his reaction. In truth, I'm glad we can be friends, because I think it'll be a lot of fun. And I can go surfing with him (maybe, if I ever actually learn how to surf properly). Sod's law also dictates that I end up fancying him now, because the pressure to do so has gone.
So somehow, in the space of one evening, I've gone from worrying about 3 blokes to just dealing with one.
The one left is Army Guy. We got on really well on the first date, but yet again, it felt like a bit of a lack of spark. What I can't work out with him though, is whether that was at least partly due to the fact that we'd chatted a lot online and by text before we actually met, which usually means there's a big preconception to be dismantled when you meet them in person, and also due to the fact that I was already worrying / agonising about the City Boy / Aussie Surfer situation and what I should do.
Army Guy has joined my surf club, which I already knew before the first date. We agreed at that point, that if the dating didn't work, we'd just be friends, because we'd be seeing each other around the club. I haven't seen him since the first date, but funny enough we've chatted fairly incessantly. I guess we'll see how that translates into a second meeting on Thursday.
****
After a quick mid-post phone call to my friend, she concurs that I need to do the honest thing with City Boy and finish it now. Tomorrow is D-Day, when I'll have to phone and tell him. It's going to suck, but I need to do it.
And then there will be one.
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