Saturday, 30 August 2008


After getting more exceedingly good advice I decided to send a follow up message to Gareth so that (a) he wouldn’t think I am so angry things can’t be fixed and (b) to ensure that he really does know how I feel – I was pretty sure he knows but he claims not to have received the emails I sent him and so on so a lot of the evidence is [conveniently] lost to the ether:

Hi. I know I said in my last [message] that I’d wait to hear from you – and after this I will – but I realised you may not know how much I like you and how much I enjoy being with you. Which is lots! Till Sunday x

Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained. I have some fight left in me, gentle reader, but not for a hopeless cause. So Till Sunday!!

On Friday I went to Oxford to meet a guy I’d been chatting to for a while on OUT. For a non-dating website that really has thrown my way a lot of prospects! In truth his pictures were pretty dreamy and it kind of evolved into a date as we made our plans. I arrived a bit early so I wandered a bit and did the touristy thing. It was a relatively summery afternoon, and the dreaming spires were beautiful indeed (hence the pics).

He and I met, and had a couple of drinks, and he showed me a few more interesting sights in the town, and we happened – by pure coincidence, to be sure - on a gay bar (a converted Tudor townhouse painted pink with a rainbow flag hanging above the door and burlesque statues dotted around the outside. Not subtle!). Once settled in there, there were muches-smooches indeedy. So much so I now have quite a rash around my face as he hadn’t shaved. And we pretty much agreed that intelligent cute guys who made him feel relaxed and made him laugh are pretty OK; and that tall, slim, beautiful academics with blue eyes I could drown in are just fine too. And perhaps best of all, though I was all for a 'Rule Two' by this point [so what else is new?], was his insistence on a strict adherence to Rule One, which has all but guaranteed a date two…

Of course that didn’t stop him kissing me all the way back to the train station which was mighty fine indeed.

Maybe I should wait for Gareth to make up his mind; or come to terms with his mind; or whatever it is – maybe I should give myself a break. But I play by my own rules, nobody else’s; not even my own. And I do go out with dudes.


czechOUT said...

There are no rules...

Rules mean rigidity and some kind of stick against which you will constantly be beating...mixed metaphors I know, but you get the sense.

Go with your feelings, your experience, your instinct.


English said...

Thanks for stopping by my blog, Mike and more so for pointing me in the direction of the Truman Show. Like your blog and am thinking we've probably worked together in the past :)