epsiode 26

Delete, delete, delete

Thanks to the last column comments about third date, I decided that to ensure I was either totally wrong or totally right, I would bite the bullet and contact him. So I did, I sent a text asking how he was. And you know what? Nothing. So, not only was I right in that he obviously wasn't into me but now I look as if I am really into him. Thanks guys.
I decided it was time to take stock. After all, I know that when I meet someone I like and they like me it will be the easiest thing ever, (yeah right), and therefore all my column musings will be no more. So in the meantime I will muse as much as I like and get it all out of my system. Let's hope for your sakes it doesn't take too long.
So back to where I was, my decision to take stock meant that I would have a cull of my phone book. It was long overdue. After all, I was triumphant when I decided to cease contact with my horrible ex, and deleted his number from my mobile phone. Now I was going to let go of every guy who I knew I wasn't going to see again. Which actually was every man in my phone bar the ones I'd never dated.
So I scrolled through the names and was surprised at how many there were. Oh well. I started off deleting Travelodge, then Hairgel, followed by drummer boy, and then third date, octopus boy, lonely hearts man, and a few others. So now I also had a cure for drunk dialing. I couldn't call anyone who wasn't a friend and who I wouldn't want to call. Genius.
My phone book was now looking quite empty or minimalist as I prefer to call it. Very now. Then things got a bit spooky. Firstly the day after deleting drummer boy I got an email from him. It was probably the equivalent of drunk dialing but drunk emailing instead as it was a little bit incoherent, and more than slightly inappropriate, referring to a steam room and, well I'll leave the rest to your imaginations. Being the sort of girl who knows how awful it can be when no one replies, I did send him a reply despite the fact I was fairly confident he wouldn't have remembered sending it.
Then a couple of days later I got an email from Travelodge. Can these guys sense when I lose interest or something? This one was asking me, (quite insanely I thought) if I was in an episode of Midsomer Murders. I wasn't by the way unless I was press ganged while asleep and used as one of the dead people. I replied saying just that and he replied asking how I was and suggesting a drink, but that just made me angry, because as far as I knew he was still married, he lied to me and there was no way I was going to see him again. So I felt justified in not replying to that.
All was well until I went to London. There I bumped into a friend of a friend who also happened to be a friend of Hairgel. Honestly, I felt as if someone was reading my mind, inside my head and following me around. It was more than spooky. This guy said that Hairgel told him he was going to visit me in Brighton! I was more than slightly taken aback, especially as it had been months since I'd last heard from him.
Of course I spent the rest of the week thinking that all the men I'd encountered were crawling out of the woodwork, so not only was I paranoid, but jumped at my own shadow and tried to refuse to leave the house. My computer even became my enemy for a while and I love my computer more than anything.
Despite telling myself that it was just a coincidence, my friends said it was weird, as if the guys had a sixth sense. Apparently it's like playing hard to get (yeah, never much good at that one), act as if you're not interested and they suddenly can't get enough of you. Well, the only downside to this plan was that as clearly it didn't work out when I was interested it had zero chance now I definitely wasn't. All I wanted was yet another fresh start. I was getting more and more clear about what I needed from any future relationship, and by that I mean I was spending enough time with just me to know myself. Sorry it if sounds all hippy dippy but it's true, how on earth do we ever have a successful relationship with someone else when we don't even have one with ourselves?
I remember back to the ex. I really felt as if I was myself with him. I could be as mad or as sensible or as geeky as I wanted. I think the problem was that when he turned out to be a lying, cheating, well you know the rest, I started to doubt myself. It had to be my fault, I wasn't good enough, or at the very least I had got it so badly wrong how would I ever trust my judgement again? And now I accept that he was flawed, not me, and I will trust my judgement again because I think it may be improving, I bloody hope so anyway.
The reason I'm admitting it to you is that I am trying to combat that part of myself. Scars heal but they take time. We are tough but we also all have insecurities. What I am trying to do, now I've had my cull is to feel that I do deserve happiness, and therefore I am not going to doubt that, worry about men who don't call or sabotage any potential happiness. I have been guilty of all that in the past but I am not going to turn into one of those women who blame themselves for everything. I might, in fact, do the opposite and see myself as totally blameless. That would be refreshing.
So, to celebrate the next step of my liberation a friend and I went to a supper club we'd heard of. We decided that we would be sociable and my friend introduced us to the DJ who was right in front of our table. He basically told us about the place and the people and kept us entertained in between playing. I got chatted up by a guy who was sweet but had a denim jacket on with a horrible floral embroidery on the back. However I tried not to be shallow as I watched him strut his stuff on the dance floor. Then when he sat down to talk to me we just had nothing in common and my friend said that if the jacket and the Dad dancing weren't bad enough, the fact that he could bore for England was. She's much harsher than me. Actually I don't think he was boring just very, very drunk because he kept falling into me. It wasn't too pleasant, trust me.
Anyway, he left to re-join his friends and a couple of the DJs friends arrived. They were incredibly cute, young, and fun. As I got up to dance with one of them, it turned out that he was twenty-six (and I didn't have palpitations), and about to leave the country, (just my luck). He had a DJ job for six months to avoid the winter here. Despite the fact that this was more doomed from the start than any of my other flirtations, I also knew that I couldn't blame myself for this. So, we danced, and chatted, and then we went on to another club and before I knew it the sun was coming up.
After leaving the club, hungover, we grabbed breakfast and then it was time to go.
'I'd really like to see you again, but I'm off in a couple of days.' Bless him. I smiled and kissed him goodbye. It didn't matter you see, because he was lovely and so was I. Delete, delete, delete and a flirtation with a cute young man, had done me the world of good.