…No, not ME (Not I?) The title of this post is actually a teaser for a good friend and hapless fellow singleton… Have a quick look around. Should you see anyone blushing madly, it’s probably she.
Mc Mushy was clear that he didn’t want our personal lives splattered over my blog… so I won’t give you the details of our meet and holiday together. Suffice to say that things didn’t work out, and I’m single once more. It’s of no earthly use asking me why, because I couldn’t tell you if I tried. He turns out to be tall and good-looking, has a good sense of humour -in short, perfectly promising. We had a great time, or so I thought. I would have loved to get to know him better, and could certainly see myself having babies with him… Still, men are a strange species, and that’s a fact. Another fact is that it takes two perfectly coordinated people to tango. If one of them is unbalanced (read: not I) then it can’t work. A final fact is that there’s no use in crying over spilled milk.
But great love does not make its appearance according to wish and arrangement, invitation, or order. On the contrary, it will nearly always, and particularly when one is well along in life, come uninvited, awkwardly, and at cross purposes to everything; its spontaneity is rebellious and radical.
‘The Pact’ by Thorkild Bjørnvig
Therefore, please don’t cry for me Argentina. I’m not heart-broken, or drowning my sorrows in vodka, or anything like that… well, maybe overworking some. I’m simply moving on, and am officially back on the war… er… husband-path once more. What’s more, I won’t be alone! My best X’mas present last year was reconnecting with a high school BFF, and it seems pretty clear that we shall be hunting together. It seems very clear too that we’re going to have to widen our scope. For one, I’m putting Internet dating on the back-burner, and we’re both taking up horse-riding. My friend’s a beginner, but I used to be pretty good at jumping them, like 300 years ago. It should be like riding a bike, shouldn’t it?
For two, I’m joining a gym, to work out all of those frustrations, and eventually learn to look good while I do it (as opposed to rabidly unfit, flushed and unbecomingly sweaty, which I highly suspect will be my permanent look for the first few months…)
For three, we plan to do soirées. Yup, you heard me right. We’ll dress up and attend things like ‘opera night’ and whatever exclusive dinners and ‘events’ as are available. Sure, likelihood is we’ll meets all sorts of stuffed shirts who talk exclusively about themselves, and use words like ‘convoluted’ and ‘succinct’ and ‘succulent’ while they (not eat but) bite into ‘canapés’ and swill champagne around with manicured hands equipped with pinky rings… Still. There might well be an eligible bachelor or two to make the experience worthwhile.
Finally, and most exciting, we plan to do quite a bit of travelling, which should be super!… Unless of course one of us falls in love with Boris who’s Polish but actually lives in Paris, though he’s taking a year off to study in Rome and whom we’ve met just as he was on short holiday in Portugal… I’m convinced long distance relationships don’t work, and have no intention of leaving my heart somewhere in Prague…. Wish us luck. I have a feeling we’re going to need it…
Hey, Happy New Year, Everyone! God bless, and may this one be a great one for all.