Well where to start with this one?

Paul, is a man who wears his heart on his sleeve. Literary!

He asked if he could hold my hand while out shopping. Asked to show his parents a picture of me. Asked if he could ‘plant one on me’ when at a bar. It’s an English term for a snog. Even said if I could play along, by saying ‘Paul, I find you so sexy’. Bearing in mind this was just within the first 48hours of swapping numbers. My head! I felt suffocated, the more he went on, the more I couldn’t breathe.

I told him to calm down a bit. He understood what I meant and apologised. But every second sentence he said “I’m playing it cool with ya”.

I was just thinking, ‘How do I end this, without being a bitch?’

Every time I tried to cut contact, he kept on saying ‘You will look back at that nice guy and say to yourself why did I let him go? I’m not talking about me by the way.’

I was good, I laughed it off in my head. I knew no matter how lonely I might be feeling, there is no way in hell I could date something that clingy and fundamentally found a pain. I couldn’t bare texting him. It would do my head in. But I can’t block someone like that. I just find it extremely disrespectful. I naturally like to please people I guess. Yes I could have used him, for gifts and attention. But I am not that sort of girl. Plus it sounds like hard work.

Paul went on to use that phase four times within a month. I called him out the last time. I couldn’t hold it in any longer. The constant eye rolling when communicating with him was started to give me repetitive strain injury. Firmly I informed him that I’m not stupid and he could not force me to like you, as I would cheat on you and wouldn’t feel bad.

Although true, he still didn’t get the picture.

After weeks of putting off seeing him, I thought I’d owe him coffee at least. Having only spent 45 minutes with him on his lunch break, he texted to confess his love for me. I’m clearly not interested. I told him it’s lust. According to him it’s love. He knows it’s love.  It didn’t matter how many times I told him it’s lust. He’s “in love with me”…. He would then proceed by sending me pictures of his house and son. Going on about how much money he earns, even though he doesn’t wear a suit and how good his life style is etc. Justifying why I should date him. He’s a decent guy, just not for me. Nothing wrong with that.

I fed him a lie that I met a guy in Copenhagen and that I’m spending Christmas with him. But I was in my bedroom, having returned from Copenhagen three hours before.

I know, I’m a bitch. It just seemed the least dramatic way of letting him down. Plus easiest for me. Me blocking him could lead to him getting another SIM card or a mate to try my number!

I lived off the attention. Something to keep my mind off other stuff in my life work wise and personally.  Sad but true. At least I cut it off before I really got in too deep.

So not long after my first date with Tony, he asked to meet again. Although our first date went well. I wasn’t too sure what to think of it all, but I did know he’s worth a go.I didn’t feel nervous seeing him again. There wasn’t a spark/ excitement. I wouldn’t say a chore, but more like seeing a friend.

As I got a table at the pub, I saw this guy smiling at me. I smiled back as he studied me with his eyes. At this moment I knew I wasn’t completely into Tony.

Sitting in the corner talking and cuddling whilst tourists were looking in confusing (interracial couples must be new to them). Tony invited me to his the following weekend. At this point I knew he meant sex. I naturally did what I do, tease! I offered to clean his oven. We made into some foreplay joke. I found him attractive, but I have more than enough numbers on my mobile to call. Plus I don’t want that anymore. It’s a lonely place to be, especially as a girl, no matter how lady like you appear outside the bedroom! You find that out sooner or later.

Date no3 at his house. TV, a bottle of wine, cuddles on the sofa! We even cooked dinner together. I cleaned his oven as promised. He thought I was joking, but I always deliver ;-).

We also had ‘desert’, decent ‘desert’. This is what I wanted. He’s a great guy, no bull,  good conversation. Amazing blue eyes. Someone I can take home to the parents, if/when the time comes. So why can’t I just be happy with it? I just can’t settle. I figured out if rather go through another 5 years of casual flings, good dates with disappointed follow ups till finding someone I’m really into.

I don’t care about his status, I just need that spark. The butterflies in my stomach when I see him approaching. The smile when ever I talk about him or see his name appear on my phone. Oh and it helps if it’s 99% mutual too and they ACTUALLY want to date you!

The only thing is, how do I end it?

So I’ve made a couple of references about this post. The dates of all dates. In late August I met this amazing guy.

I’m not the romantic type at all. But for what ever reason, Brian got weak. I remember our eyes locking for the first time. The smile on his face cheeky, yet loving.

So there we are in a hotel bar talking away. I did something I don’t normally do, even if I want to. I held his hand. It might be nothing major to others, but it is to me. I’m not fickle with my emotions/actions, so I might seem a bit reserved.  I felt extremely comfortable, with him like I’ve known him for years, but it’s been less than 24 hours. This can be dangerous, letting my guard down too soon. But I didn’t care. Life is about taking risks, and I am big risk taker.

Within 20 minutes he went in for a kiss. It was fantastic. Walking around Soho like love sick puppies, dancing, spinning me around, pulling me in for a kiss. It was something from a chick flick, something I would normally cringe over, but it felt so natural.

For once I wasn’t thinking, I just went with the flow. It felt amazing. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other (in a nonsexual way). Touching the back of my neck, the consent eye contact. His grey eyes, manly hands, tall. Very Scandinavian looking.

Walking back to the station, with our hands so tightly interlocked, I felt relaxed and at peace. Even writing about it now puts a smile on my face. Have I turned girly? I think I told him everything about me. I knew a lot about him. I didn’t want the night to end. But I refused to go back to his. He was ridiculously attractive, but I didn’t think about ripping his clothes off. I guess I’m becoming more mature. We talked about future dates, going swimming, movies (he’s a massive movie buff).

We texted a bit, it wasn’t the same. He seemed distant, which was strange as he was very full on, but in a good way. I wasn’t sure if it was the pressure for him to get another gig (he’s a cameraman). 5 days after our date I sent a message stating how great I found him, how I  would love to get to know you more etc. I got a reply back two days later, ‘hey princess I’m on a job, when drop you a line when I get back.’

I knew from that moment I would never meet him again. He was just a guy who sadly drank a bit too much, and required some attention.

So here we are, my first date from Pick! I wasn’t too sure what to expect. But what I did know is that I had to get back on the horse and stop making excuses. You know, he’s too tall or too short. He likes “girly” things, which I don’t, etc! Excuses can be made in fear!

Tony wasn’t my usual type, but he did compliment me on my eyes. It was a Monday night date. Somehow that means its not as much pressure as a weekend date right? Well- for a first date I think.

Lying in bed the night before, I could feel my head going round in a continuous spiral. What to wear? I want to make an impression right? But what if he was just in his normal day to day clothes? I couldn’t think of anything worse than going overdressed. Overdressed as in my fitted dress, 4inch heels plus Spanx for good measure. Basically, I can’t go home with him. But what about jeans? Personally, I love them. But I don’t think it’s a first date sort of outfit.

After a long day in the office, I jumped out of the office in anticipation power walking to the tube station. There I was on the tube, fake playing with my iPhone to avoid eye contact. It’s a London thing, unless he is cute, then I might smile ;-). My head was frantically thinking of questions to ask Tony. Knowing that I would forget most of them, still thought it was best to “practice”. Like you do before an exam, I would think of topics that might come up.

As I was waiting at the station, looking at people’s vacant faces, I could actually the butterflies in my tummy. There he was. His piercing blue eyes and dark hair. Looked better than his picture, but looks are only skin deep. I am the ultimate psychosexual!

Having a drink in an old London pub which was surprisingly busy for a Monday night the conversation flowed well. There were a couple of silent moments, but it was a first date. We spoke about the usual stuff. Work, travels, childhood, etc. He was a nice guy and he appreciated the effort I made with my skirt (according to his eyes).

As we left the pub and walked across the Embankment I took a make to take in the views. Nothing is better than being in the city at night. The architecture, the lights; the river. We looked at each other for what seemed like an eternity and my head was like fuck it! So we kissed. Tony walked me back to the station, holding hands like a love sick couple. I wasn’t excited, this was my way to cope with any disappointment that might come my way. Just because you had a good, great or fantastic first date. Doesn’t mean there will be a second one…