Moving on

So today was the day of the move. The Gardener very kindly helped me shift a lot of my things in his work vehicle. Now the room I’m in is very, very crowded but I think I’ve managed to accommodate most of what I wanted to get in there. The few remaining big pieces of furniture (sofa, tall shelving units) I’ll hire a van for and they can go in the living room for us to share. Of course, picking the hottest day of the year to exert myself so was perhaps not the wisest move – but needs must and if I haven’t lost weight with all this then I’m a – porky – Dutchman [British idiom].

I had a brief date on Friday but this didn’t really go anywhere. It was over quite quickly, and he sent me an email after thanking me for my ‘time’… he’s not for me, nor I for him. C’est la vie, gentle reader. No harm done.

After the date I went out on the town with colleagues which got messily drunk. I recall leading the night-bus home in song. There were jazz hands. So I was not happy on Saturday packing up! Have you tried shifting furniture whilst suffering Ebola? It wasn’t pretty.

Today while out shopping I bumped into one of two guys I hooked up with last Tuesday. This particular guy was also out shopping: with his boyfriend. I must admit, after I said hello and realised they are together, I felt a bit of irritation that once again I’ve hooked up with a guy who is with a guy. I mean, I’m fine with open relationships. And I decided long ago that it is not for me to manage others’ lives; how they commit and deal with infidelity is up to them. But still! I don't know this guy hadn't told his boyfriend about me, but he was awfully keen to leave...

I strayed from that path with International; perhaps the exception proving the rule. Yet, it does annoy me a bit these days. It used to be that the attention flattered me but now, not so much! I would rather meet single guys; I got some moves [he he] and it all helps in the search for Mr Right, I fancy. In the meantime if guys are in a relationship and they want to have some fun together then I’m game. At least that’s done in a way that doesn’t have the same potential to harm. Oh, yes, Frumpella has standards. Or at least would prefer to be in a relationship over merely sleeping with people who are.

All change please

It’s time for the Cheerful Fairy to take a step toward becoming a full grown fairy moomin…

Though I have no doubt convinced you, gentle reader, of my eternal youth in the sunshine of Strumpetville I do fear my claims to such might fail to convince, say, any provider of your house-buying-type mortgage thingy (those years studying financial services all paying off, you can see). Thus there is a need to bolster my arguments through reducing my outgoings and start putting a bit more by.

I have mentioned before my regular, and indeed most welcome, gentleman caller The Gardener. Well, he has rooms in his house for rent and when he asked me if I knew anyone who could be interested my thoughts turned to my administrator C, who in a short space of time has become a good friend. I asked her if she’d like to have a look with me – C, The Gardener and I all living quite close: C wasn’t really interested, but a plan – cunning as the proverbial – formed…

Well, we had a look round tonight and one of the rooms was an en-suite with it’s own phone line and TV port. OK, so it sounds like a hotel room – but it is in a lovely Victorian house with huge rooms in a gorgeous tree lined street. On top of a steep hill that promises to give me buns of steel within a month :-)

It’s very near to where I am now, and would save me a staggering £X00 per month – enough to pay for my oft-mooted trip to China in a single month. Buy that new computer I’ve been hankering after the next… and possibly the month after blow it all on hats.

And save. Oh yes, save.

So I decided to take the room. If it all goes to plan I shall be moving this weekend – The Gardener requiring no deposit. Double plus hurrah with sprinkles on top!

Of course there is the somewhat delicate issue of the *ahem* ground rules to consider; but we shall have to approach these things as men do and totally ignore them until things reach breaking point. Or discuss them like proper grown-up fairies. Or something. But after living on my own for quite a few years it’s a bit daunting!

This is all the more pertinent because Fella and I are going out for what may be considered a third date on Wednesday (or indeed might not) - this time to the cinema.

On the face of it this is good news but it’s very, very difficult to read him. Whilst we remain in almost constant contact I don’t get much of an interested vibe from him. Well, I’ve decided I absolutely will not tackle him on it and rather see what occurs on Wednesday. If I still don’t think he’s interested then… well I suppose I’ve made me a new friend at least!

And anyway, I have taken a step to remaining the Cheerful Fairy you all know and love by arranging a date this Friday with yet another guy…

Star

There are five main themes to my life:

· Career and business
· Health (physical, mental and spiritual)
· Friends (and family)
· Sex and sexuality
· Love and relationships

For four out of five I don’t think I’m doing too badly. The last of them, well; I have to keep reminding myself I’m only 19 in gay years. So things are as they should be, perhaps. Perhaps.

The only thing I am truly proud of about myself is above average intelligence. Somewhere around the 145 mark on the IQ scale depending on the test and how much I’ve been drinking; not record breaking by pretty good. Frumpella is also a Mensa fairy, you know :-)

Sleeping with lots of people – but not just anyone; I’m not a troll! – helps, or at least helped, me feel attractive. Being considered good in bed in some ways validated me coming out. Now I’m looking at numbers and wondering if it isn’t time to dial it down a notch. As Robin Williams said men have two heads; but can only think with one at a time. With my sexuality I try to keep my wits about me and should get more involved with all the things I’d avoided before like the plague; going to gay themed films and plays etc.

I’ve been very focused recently on career development; I am quite determined to make progress this year. But it’s more than mere grading or remuneration. I need to know I’m considered good at what I do. And because of my self-confidence issues that means working really hard so I can acknowledge to myself I might be at least OK.

My friends are, as they have ever been, brilliant and I’m very lucky. I’ve never been good at meeting people but I have over the years developed a group of wonderful people for whom I don’t do enough and who probably don’t realize how much they mean to me. Without close family it is hugely important to me that they are there on so many levels.

I’ve been exercising a lot recently and I feel great. I’m really getting into fitness, though of course the results will take time. Again, I need to be fit, well dressed, etc to believe that I’m, in the attractiveness stakes… at least OK.

But finding Mr Right isn’t like that. You can’t really apply intelligence to finding love. If you could dating would be easy… but dull. I know what to do in all the areas of my life - even if I can be lackadaisical in doing them sometimes – except that last point on the star. And that, gentle reader, is a pity.

Because it doesn’t matter how pert my bum is or how healthy my bank balance if I sit and eat dinner at home alone; wake up alone; come home to an empty house. I really hope I find Mr Right someday… someone who will be proud of me and all my hard work and who will make it all worthwhile.

The turtle moves

OK gentle reader. So Fella is a bit irritating!

I have a number of virtues; unlovable, every one. And patience is not yet among them. The issue at hand is that while he and I are in constant touch - emails and texts and phone calls back and forth - there is a trend I have noticed.

I’m not student of the treat ‘em mean and keep ‘em keen philosophy; but the thing with Fella is the nicer I am to him, the ‘worse’ he responds, and vice versa. For example, if I pay him a compliment or say I enjoy his company he changes the subject or ignores me. On the other hand if I leave him be for even a few hours he’s all over me.

He’s cancelled the Girls Aloud concert, but was at pains to emphasise he wasn’t trying to stop seeing me – it was because he made a mistake with tickets and in fact he wants to take me out to do something “amazing and lovely” to make up for it. Fair enough; but when I was totally understanding about it the tune changed and…

I have discovered Fella was seeing someone, and they had broken up quite recently. No earlier than March, in fact. Having been Rebound Boy before, it rings a little alarm bell. I suspect that might be behind these attempts to keep close yet distant. But then, how could I tell? He should be asking out someone with more relationship experience. I’m absolutely the last gayer to be involved in that kind of game!

Last night he and I went out to meet some of his friends. A lecture at the Hunterian Museum; dinner; drinks. I wowed them with my wit and charm [LOL], as Fella cheerfully acknowledges. And he’s clearly told them all about me, which is great; I think they are keen to see him paired off with someone. So a plus in that column then…

It is A’s birthday on Monday so I want to at least go for the evening drinks and celebrate; I have invited Fella as my double plus-one. Who knows? It might be great. It might not happen at all.

I’m minded not to let things progress. End them now, and that will be that. Confusion and discord…

Ah, ‘tis early days: at the very least I’m going to leave him be and he can chase me for a while. This would deal nicely with my angst, lack of experience in this area, and mild annoyance; if I try to push him I’ll only make a mistake. And in the meantime, I can get on with things and enjoy myself. And perhaps learn a thing or two.

Not just the actions that matter; it’s also the person. And with the right person, well, all can be forgiven…

Decisions, decisions

As much as I do like Fella I am torn about pursuing a relationship right now. I have a lot of things I was planning to do over the summer and while a relationship would be wonderful it would mean redefining priorities in a way that might put some on indefinite hold.

I suppose that lessens the post-date ‘not a clue what to do’ angst of it all. Fella and I have been emailing and texting a lot but I think I’ll give him a bit of space pro-tem because having me buzzing in his ear is the last thing he needs. Friends (good friends with much more important things to deal with) have counselled me to hold off a bit and they’ve just about talked me in off the ledge… he’s quite inscrutable so I suppose tomorrow, when we meet again and I meet some of his friends too, will tell… Stay tuned, gentle reader!

But that might well be the key, no? Whatever the way I go down the fork in the road I have a clear path. It is possible I will keep seeing a nice guy with the potential to be… something (which I would like to do); or I will focus on the priorities I’ve already identified.

Either’s OK. Really, it is. I was cautioned by a friend to be sure I know the difference between liking him or liking the idea of someone being interested in me. A fine point, well made. Now who will make use of it? Well it’s all a learning process, still and forever. At worst, some temporary disappointment beckons (with a soupcon of bewilderment about what exactly one has to do!) and after that… well, I’ll let you know.

Waiting

Fella and I had been texting and emailing virtually constantly over the days leading up to our meeting (and also, recently, become ‘friends’ on Facebook) so it really began to feel like we knew each other quite well. In fact we were texting right up to the time I had to leave the apartment to get there!

I arrived at the Church in good time, wanting to meet him before the concert began. And there we were, face to face for the first time. As gorgeous in real life as he looks in his pics!

We talked for 10 minutes or so before the concert was due to begin. Vivaldi; Sibelius; Weber; Brahms. The last piece was described by the conductor as a love song, full of the moods of love... what could be more perfect?

Once the concert was finished ad the church locked up, we went into Soho for a drink. By this time it was 10 o’clock and Eurovision was just finishing, and we managed to find a seat in the Duke of Wellington where we could talk.

So engrossed we became in conversation that 11:30 quickly rolled around and with it the prospect of his departure to catch his last train (not living in London, you see). But I selflessly offered him the use of the my futon in the living room and he, charmer that he is, said he was having such a good night that he would prefer to do that so we could have more time together. And so, after the pub closed we went to The Edge for more drinks and more talk and… a little before 1:00am a wild impulse came over me that I could not resist; and I kissed him.

I held his hand all the way home, and once there - after a nice merlot and some pain au chocolat - we made love till dawn.

We rose at 11:00. I made us a big breakfast and then we spent the rest of the day in each others’ arms on the sofa, naked, watching DVDs and breaking only when overcome with passion until at 5:00pm it was, sadly, time for him to head home.

So I think, gentle reader, we might safely say we had a good first date. As for what’s next…

I’m fine with taking things slow; that’s certainly what he would want. I’d really just like this not to be the end of it. Though not perfect I am sold on him and would like to give things a chance to develop. So here I am waiting anxiously in that post-first-date broke Rule 1 again No Man’s Land - to text or not to text? That is the question. Four hours sleep doesn’t help. Time to be cool and let things progress one way or another; fingers crossed though.

Daydream

One thing, whatever happens, the guy I’m meeting on Saturday deserves is my thanks for making meeting guys pleasurable again. This year my attitude has moved from genuinely enjoying the experience of meeting new people, whatever happens, and hoping for the best, to a sort of [self fulfilling?] resignation that it wouldn’t work out. One of the many reasons I decided, while still open to Mr Right, to give that ole’ dating business a rest for a while.

The thing is I am getting on really, really well with this one. Nothing sexual, or at least overtly, in our messages. He’s just a real charmer; though he has a tendency to boast about how pert his bum is, how flat his tum is…

Perhaps even then he’s done me a favour, because instead of being angsty about how I look, I’ve been compelled to simply say he’ll just have to take me as he finds me.

Yes, I’ve begun to really like him and keep having to give myself a reality check: we haven’t met yet! Of course we’re both realistic enough to candidly acknowledge our meeting might well be a deal breaker. I really just really hope it isn’t.

His friends approve of me – after he shared my pics and, it turns out, my emails… one of them has even bought me a ticket to a show they’re all going to see next Wednesday. Now, isn’t that counting your chucks?! He has told me I’m his perfect guy, and he feels like we’re on our fifth date already. I’ve told him he’s sweet, and lovely, and charming, and kind; and becoming very special to me.

My friends like him to, of course – but then, what’s not to like?

I’ll let you into a little secret too – the amount of money I’ve spent on skincare products in the last week… I’m sitting here in a face mask even now! OK, I’m a gayer… but surely there are limits???

Me being me, of course, I probably nearly ruined it by explaining he’s making me nervous about meeting him with all his boasts about his body. Indeed, tonight (he tells me) he’s engaged in a hefty bout of manscaping… Now I’m determined to meet him head on, confidence for confidence, fire for fire. I want to play it a bit cooler – not be the anxious, infatuated one for a change. Walk softly and carry a big stick (oo-er)?

Hence my renewed blogging vigour. You must bear the brunt of it, as always, gentle reader. I just need to vent… I like this one. What a silly fairy Frumpella is.

Expectation

Now, you may recall, gentle reader, I recently said I was done dating. And this, broadly, holds true. However, recent events have blurred the line a little…

Let me explain.

I recently joined a site called Tom Dick and Sally. It offered a free trial so I gave it a try; but then thought no further of it. Until, that is, I was notified someone had sent me a message.

I replied; he replied back… we got chatting… anyway, it seems on Friday he won tickets to see Girls Aloud from a private box at the O2, near to which I live, and he invited me to join him.

He will have friends there too of course; so it’s a slightly unusual first meeting. Different enough for me to do a Rule 5 override and say yes! Dates, after all, haven’t been my strong suit recently but why not? I was really pleased and flattered that he had thought of me.

Since then we’ve moved from messaging via the site to emails and phone calls etc. He is, I shall confess, quite charming. I am disarmed when he writes to me, often knowing not how to reply. Anyway, after a while we exchanged pictures. Of course, he is insanely good looking. I mean just gorgeous. Much to the irritation of my friends I had to check, after he had seen my reciprocal images, that he was still keen to meet. But he is. He tells me his colleagues think I’m most handsome, and of course everyone at my work says he is H-O-T.

In fact he works as a concert manager at a large church in central London where they put on lunchtime and evening concerts; and he is working Saturday night so he suggested that he gets me a ticket to attend that and then we go out for a drink in Soho afterward.

OK. Saturday A bit sooner than I anticipated but then again why not? Still a few days’ notice, even if it is uncomfortably datesque.

Then of course, today he invites me to tonight’s concert. Now that is too close. I need a few days to get myself physically and mentally prepared to meet this gorgeous guy. I didn’t have a change of clothes; and whilst I don’t think I look too bad right now I do think a bit of pampering might make a difference. After all, I shan’t get a second chance to make a first impression. So I gracefully decline…

I need to manage my expectations. My friends and colleagues say I’m more excited about this guy than any one for quite a while. But he and I both agree we may well not get on (c.f. he probably won’t like me) when we meet, and we have to be realistic about that. But still, on paper he’s incredible and I do have to fight a smidge of infatuation!

OK. So, in the spirit of Rule 6, I’m going to review my archive of dating experience; treat myself - possibly buy some new clothes and tart myself up a bit - and just enjoy his company. We will definitely be Rule 1 compliant; and I shall be very, very careful of how much I drink. So if I’m very, very lucky, then at least I’ll get to see Girls Aloud at the O2!!

Observation

I met a couple at the weekend who had been together for more than 20 years. They live in a beautiful house a couple of miles from me. One a teacher, his boyfriend used to work in publishing. They have taken early retirement and spend their time between their house in London and a small cottage in Wales.

Being with them, in their home, listening to hear them recount the gay history of my area; the discreet pubs and drag acts and cruising spots that over the years have disappeared, it was very interesting. It was also very pleasant to watch and hear them reminisce and bicker. It reminded me of my grandparents; the way they kept a huge proportion of their life experience in someone else’s head. It felt very safe, like home; and it was exactly, exactly why I want so much to find someone to share my life with until our life is done.

International got in touch with me at the weekend. He had texted me but I ignored this which I felt a bit guilty about, but considered was for the best. So he sent me a long email instead. His situation is unchanged; he remains with Ouch. They are having a Eurovision party to which he would invite me but he does no yet feel he is ready for us to be friends. He wanted to know if I had found somebody else. Don’t know why he bothered to contact me really. A while ago I suppose it might have felt a bit torturous to be reminded of what it and might have been. Now I just think WTF?

I replied to International explaining I have a great job, friends and sex-life to the search for Mr Right is taking the back seat at the moment. I did not explain that all the things I want to do, over the next few months, are to show myself I can do better than him, and find someone who does want to be with me; and who will never regret it.

Because for all my great job, friends and sex life there is the gap between them all that is snuggling up to someone as you wake up in the morning; holding hands as you walk down the road; having that someone who makes you smile when you think of them. Those are the things I want, and I miss terribly. I feel a bit sad that I may have to wait a while to share them. But I’m still having fun, still am very busy. It’s not all wistfulness and deep sighs! I even start my new exercise and diet regime tomorrow. There’s just that gap that I can’t seem to close by myself…

Chill pill

Well, once again the world has turned, causing me to leave behind my anger issues. As day surely follows night, so surely feeling like a one-man-idiot follows losing my temper.

It’s a number of things really. Most importantly, I think, a couple of friends are having a tough time with affairs of the heart. In particular one is finding it difficult to deal with the end of his relationship. It’s all been recent but do I worry about how unhappy he is. My friend recognised and shares my rage issues. We talked last night and he pointed out how difficult it was to get over International; an uncomfortable truth to be confronted with, but there we are. His experience and that of my other friend show me I should perhaps wind my neck in a notch.

Gay dating is a very a crude form of evolution. I feel every time I begin something with someone I’m jumping off a cliff. The more I feel for them the higher the cliff is I leap from. Yet every time so far I have hit the ground; and of course the further I have fallen the harder and more painfully I have hit. One day I shall leap off the highest cliff of all and – if I’m very lucky – grow wings, and fly. If not, then I shall hit the ground for the final time.

As you might have gathered, gentle reader my not-date on Friday was not a good one. I just didn’t like him, and I felt foolish for giving him a second change (that silence you hear, by the way, is all my friends absolutely not saying I Told You So, bless ‘em). I got very annoyed because he reminded me too much of International and my own failings and really, I realized hadn’t a clue what I was really expecting.

Today things are much better. I’ve actually spent most of the afternoon with an insanely good in bed guy. Ironically it was a guy I had chatted to on Out a while ago but I didn’t really think he was my type, so nothing came of it. Then, by coincidence, we cyberstumbled over each other on gaydar and, as my way of helping him over exam stress (university student you see) we had an assignation.

Talk about not seeing the wood for the trees! He seems a really great guy; I felt very comfortable with him and really enjoyed his company in more than the usual way. Well, though I’m done dating* while walking him back I suggested we should go out for a drink and spend time engaging in not-sex in some significant way.

Of course Strumpetville remains, and some other things have occurred that I shall blog about next time; until then, I wish you the best for the rest of the weekend!

Anger

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Time

Much as I want one I’m not really sure I have the time for a relationship. That’s not an excuse, of course, gentle reader; and I’m a firm believer in making the time as needed. Nevertheless the challenges I’ve set for myself – including, ironically, getting better at meeting men both for casual assignations and as NOT-dates – do leave little room.

It’s not the plan to stop looking and sometimes I do feel I had in fact left it too late to start. That’s not because I think I’m too old, but because my time to learn ([16 + (X*3)] notwithstanding) is limited and I still seem not to have an effing clue what I’m doing.

I’m again very busy at work; I’ve been invited to make an ‘expression of interest’ for one of five project roles that are vacant under a new directorate structure. And apparently I’ve been ‘volunteered’ some kind of emergency planning role to do with the impending aporkalypse.

Tonight I arranged online various assignations from tonight through to Sunday. Tonight’s assignation, purely FYI, means I’ve slept with so far this year a simple majority of all the men I’ve ever slept with in my whole life. I’m doing well on the strumpet front, no?

So a busy [queen] bee then.

But I recently promised work and sex and dating were not the sum of Frumpella’s days. And to that end I wrote at the weekend a little wish-list for myself of activities I should do. They include:

• get involved in gay culture. Films, plays, that kind of thing;
• holiday more frequently;
• volunteer somewhere [suggestions welcome];
• go to concerts more often;
• go running.

All related to new Rule 25: if you want self-esteem do estimable things. The aim now, rather than replacing Darren with the Darrenqesue, is a normal gay life where I meet guys and things might happen or not as the case may be. That requires exploring resources both internal and not.

There is a tension in this. I’m learning to be gay in a relatively short space of time, to capitalise on what youth is left to me. I suppose this post is a thinking-out-loud way of fitting the square peg of this adjusted path into the round hole of my mind. But, in search of the effing clue, I think I need to be a bit more intelligent. Intelligence of a sort is one of the few things I’ve got going for me – that and a face made for radio ;-).

It’s not, of course, about lists and re-hashes of lists. But a square peg in a round hole can leave anyone walking gingerly.

This is a truly beautiful piece of music and I’ve searched high and low for it for months…

Frumpella 2.0

Newly-out Frumpella 1.0 was the ‘beta’ version of the Cheerful Fairy, released for public testing. Well, we found a few bugs (!) but the system works; and I don’t think I’ll ever quite appreciate how lucky I am.

Perversely, perhaps, I now live constantly with a sense of anticipation and slight nervousness. Like a child on Christmas Eve; or I’m on a plane with a one way ticket to start a new life on the other side of the world; or it’s my wedding day.

But whatever comes next, what I really feel is that things need to change.

Endless dating in the strident search for Mr Right isn’t working. It’s been too easy to let my self be hurt by not being wanted. And it’s counter-productive to feel like that.

I’m still looking; there's so much about dating and meeting guys I love. Just not being so consumed with searching for Mr Right will be helpful. It’s difficult to choose not to actively seek him after so many years of denying myself exactly that. But there we are.

It’s not my dating experiences; I’m clear thinking and enough to realise although I’m the only common factor to all my dates it’s not me; ‘Me’ is not the problem. There’s just too much else to do. I want to go to China; buy a new computer; replace my clothes [losing weight = retail therapy!]; perhaps even buy a car. And dating costs; far more than casual sex or relationships – not least in financial terms!

Friends and colleagues have tactfully suggested that dating might be less expensive if I didn’t have three dates a week and marvellous Monty’s new paradigm suggests a possible way forward.

I have a more-than full-time job, and a ikkle-small business too. The business needs lots of attention because my aim is, once the economy recovers, to sell it. My “this will pay for my house” ambition! Conversely my career needs to be carefully managed as opportunities arise with my work that shall require sustained time and effort to realise.

Socially I can’t really go on with a life of only work, causal sex, and the very occasional booze-fuelled outing, even if I’m only 19*. I recently joined, amongst other things, a fencing club (I did a bit at school and was rather good) and a gay–professionals networking group as part of a drive to expand my horizons and meet new people.

From a purely physical point of view I want to get fitter. I’ve done well; I like what I see in the mirror. But much work remains. So, for a while yet, it’ll be out with the booze altogether. Swimming, running; you can’t easily date on a calorie controlled diet!

The real reason behind all of it is of course self confidence. The issue at the heart of so much on this blog. I need to be confident I look good, have a full life, am doing well in my career. I sometimes get criticised for setting impossible standards for myself; but that’s the only way I know how to address the problem – if I’m sure I’ve done the best I can there’s nothing to be shy about any more. That and Rule 5 of course.

What happens next is…until Septemberish I shan’t be actively dating, pending what happens with my current crop. Though I fully intend to maintain a full timetable of man-fun I’ve been writing about taking a break for a while and when it comes to dating there is something to be said about not seeing the wood for the trees.

New Testament

It has been a strange start to the holiday weekend, gentle reader. The Sun is shining on Strumpetville and its golden rays carry a cargo of whimsy and caprice leaving not even Frumpella untouched.

My date on Thursday was shifted to Friday under circumstances I’m not really convinced by – but on Friday itself I really felt I looked somewhat rough, so I asked my date to postpone till next week. Fair enough, he replied, though he has now apparently disappeared [if that’s possible]; so I wonder if I’ve burned my bridges.

However, not feeling entirely… fulfilled I entertained a guy for an assignation and we turned out to get on very well indeed. Tentatively we are going to go out at some point in the near future to get to know one another in a rather different way.

Funny how things turn out. More la-la than ha-ha but it's progress of a sort.

But strangest of all, I received a text message today – a message that stopped me in the street and caused me to loudly declaim terms not suited to sensitive ears:

“Hey Mike, I hope you are well and enjoying your bank holiday weekend. I’d really like to meet you still, though would totally understand if you didn’t want to after all the mucking around that I’ve done. I’m free and single and, well, you’re still in my thoughts. Hope to hear from you! [] x”

You might recall at the end of March a date was cancelled at the last minute by a guy who had been somewhat evasive with me but finally admitted he had begun seeing someone, so we couldn’t really ‘date’ as such. Well, the message was from him!!

Do you see why I declaimed what I did? Do you??

Well, I’m no fan of drama but I have pondered my reply for some time and still not resolved what to write. At the end of March I got some good advice in the form of comments on the post, generally on the lines of “better off without…”. So in theory, at best, I should reply “yeah, thanks – but no thanks”.

But obviously I’m not inclined to do that. Always thinking of what might be, that’s the Cheerful Fairy; never wanting to hurt anyone’s feelings. Hmmm. It even occurs to me that if I were to reply in the positive, he would subconsciously lose respect for me for being such a push-over.

Double plus hmm. More pondering awaits. I suspect I’ll end up meeting him, as a friend, in due course. It’s a nice message but I don’t really need to follow the tried and tested path of the bijou boyfriendette yet again. What will be will be.