The Gaze That Stops Time

 

There comes a moment in every man’s life where he gazes into his partner’s eyes with a longing so deep that it touches the receiver’s soul. You could even say it’s a gaze that is more than life itself, aided by the twinkling of stars that has somehow been born from the universe. You are looking at a deep galaxy of lights, where each illumination is a memory that the bearer holds dear. And suddenly, just like the quickness of the snapping of fingers, a stillness of time manifests into infinity. It is just the two of you who matter, as the noises around you mute. You both seem to be in the know, while the rest of the world ceases to exist. That gaze, the one that makes you almost feel like you know the meaning of life, morphs into something that logically you can’t comprehend, and yet emotionally understand without question. Once this realisation hits, you become very aware that your breath becomes caught up in the thickness of the air around you, making it hard to digest the intensity . It’s a rarity… but if you are lucky enough to experience it, it is likely one that you will never forget.

I have had the great pleasure of experiencing such a gaze, not once but a few times throughout my life. And with each, came a knowing that at that moment the man that was doing the gazing cared for me without question. It was reassuring, comforting and probably made me overlook other blemishes that I otherwise would have never allowed. But once the gaze materialised, all rationale would fly right out the window. It was a drug so potent and so euphoric that I stuck around in the hopes of experiencing it again. I was a girl who loved love after all. Each gaze somehow cemented my  romanticised conviction about love. As I look back on each encounter, I do so with a longing and admiration that I was fortunate to experience the amount that I did.

I remember where I was and what I was doing with each gaze. Even the one’s that were many years ago still feel like new. But I have realised that there’s definitely different variation of the ‘gaze’. There are one’s, a gushy gaze, that allow you to open up and let the person in. While other’s, a grand gaze, that make you feel like you are an admired and wanted human being. And then there’s the doozy of all gazes, a gladiator gaze, which is the one that awakens your soul. The one where you can see each other growing old together.

For me, each experience has no doubt been ingrained right down to my core and from time to time I find myself thinking about those moments. I don’t think of the men, or the relationships. I think about the feeling, about the emotions, about the senses. It comes to mind more when I lose faith in men. Or when a devastating experience knocks me back into my fortified walls. Or when a momentary overwhelming feeling of loneliness settles in. But I want to make it clear that I don’t think of these instances to reminisce on what I’ve lost, or even to do a pity party, or a woe is me chant. No! I think of them because those feelings make me happy. Happy that I actually was able to experience such a powerful emotion. Happy that even despite the uncertainties that life brings, for a brief moment I felt love in all its richness and grandeur.

The gaze is a powerful phenomenon surrounded by yearning, pheromones and enigma. It’s something that makes you feel invincible. But with this awe-inspiring power comes delirium and a susceptibility to goofiness, vulnerability and even allowing the giver of the gaze more leeway then what you ever intended. So take great care when receiving the gaze. Cherish it, adore it, and be mindful of it. The whizzing of whimsy will engulf you; revel in it. Even if I never am able to receive the gaze from another man again, at least I can look back in fondness of the ones I have had the honour of obtaining.

❤ ❤ ❤

Singles Awareness Day


It would appear that today is Singles Awareness Day. As if we needed a dedicated day to be singled out even more than we already do. **Spoiler** We were very ‘aware’ of our singledom yesterday. And why might I add, is this ‘awareness’ the day after Valentine’s day? It seems like a commiseration prize that all the happy sappy couples cooked up and served with an air of smugness. We get the leftovers, the day after everyone declares their love to their significant lovers. Is that it? For the life of me, I don’t understand it. I know I’m single! I don’t need a day to remind me and others like me that in society’s eyes, we’re a bunch of lonely bastards for which pity must be bestowed upon us.

Twitter today has gone mental from brands jumping on the bandwagon, poking fun with phrases such as, ‘Don’t be a third wheel’, ‘Even singles need love’, ‘At least you don’t have to share your biscuits’ harty harrrr haaaarrrr. Furthermore, if this day was supposed to be a true celebration of being single then shouldn’t we rename the tagline? Because awareness is not cutting it in my books. It’s almost as if one day someone haphazardly said, “Oh…I guess… yeah… I suppose singles need love too. But let’s name it an awareness like it’s a disease that one should know the signs of in order to avoid catching it.” Fuck you guy! How about that. In all actuality it should be known as the highest form of achievement day. This should also acknowledge, and include, our well versed ability in combat scenarios when jealousy befalls the crazies of a duo. Military precision on evasive action when faced with ‘oh how funny what a coincidence’ ambush set-ups. Deflection tactics when it comes to questions, and our subtle yet steadfast ability to look like we’re enjoying a day surrounded by couples doing couple things. This acknowledgement should be given as an award and bestowed to us as herald trumpets play in the background by Angels while God booms down with admiration. All the while a shrine of light beams upon us because he knows, that we know without doubt, chosen wisely. I’d like to point out that I don’t see stories of God’s wife anywhere. I was forced to go to Sunday school for years and there was no mention of God having a wife or a significant other. There’s only been speculation on the subject in recent years for which I’m sure a couple played a part in creating. Yeah I’m taking this biblical! Now, if the single path was acceptable to the creator of the universe, then surely we too should be revered in awe. Additionally, I’m not even completely sure how society has decided everything should come in pairs. A conundrum indeed!

Since we’re clearing the air…I’ll have you know I’m exceptionally happy with being single. I like not sharing my bed and not having to talk to someone as soon as I step my foot in the door after a long day of work. The sheer enjoyment I get by having the remote all to myself and being able to do my own thing without having to ‘check-in’ is paramount to me having an orgasm. That’s how good I feel people!

All this pitying that’s going on, no matter how playful it is, should be steered to all the couples out there. Who in their right mind wants to compromise in love, sex, arguments, and so on. Every time I hear stories of my couple-friends discussing their woes makes me want to hurl. They have become a shell of their former selves, who have added ‘we’ in everything. The constant emotional roller-coaster of jealousy, rage, anger, hatred, longing, analyzing, frustration, that theses pairs go through is enough to make anyone come down with a sudden spell of vertigo.

Therefore, I will be ignoring this day on the grounds that being single is awesome. And if we are pointing out truths, me thinks those frou-frou couples are jelly; as well they should be.

And so, I’ll leave you with this inspiring thought…

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❤ ❤ ❤

Love Seemed Much Simpler in My Parents and Grandparents Generation

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Does anyone else feel like things are moving too fast nowadays when it comes to dating, love and relationships in general? Or am I the only one woman island in the middle of nowhere? As I look at my parents and grandparents’ relationships I have come to the conclusion that things have become a little warped. It definitely doesn’t seem so rosy anymore and somewhere along the way there seems to have been more rules put in place to make things even more difficult.

Since when was there a playbook developed of do’s and don’ts in contacting the opposite sexes? We seem to all be floating around not really certain of where we stand anymore. Do we text them or not? Do we make the first move? Should we be swiping 100 times to the right just to make our quota for the day? Because more is obviously better, or so I’ve been told. Where has the commitment gone? Where has the adventure of getting to know someone gone? Are the only two things I have to look forward to in life is superficial dating apps and TV shows where you get naked to see if you’re attracted to them? I mean call me old fashioned but what penis is attractive? And fanny holes? Jeeeeessssuuus help me.

I’m not joking about that TV show by the way. It’s actually called ‘Naked Attraction’. Apparently in the first episode there’s a line of men put in front of a woman and they drop their pants to show off their saggy junk. You don’t see their upper body. Have we become so desensitised as a people that we don’t care anymore.

I look at my parents and think how have they stuck it out. Of course they get into fights. My mom is crazy and my dad is stubborn. But every day when my dad leaves the house he gives my mom a kiss. And then my momma gives him one back. They smile and go about their day. They talk, albeit a lot. But that’s communication. They seem committed to one another; through thick and thin. When times were rough they banded together. They worked at it. They laughed. And according to my mom they still have sex. (I just threw up). They’re in their 70’s and to be honest good for them. I just don’t think my ears have to hear things like that.

My grandparents (maternal side) were together for like 70 years until my grandpa sadly passed away. Those two used to yell at each other so much that I thought they were going to kill one another. I remember being 6 years old in New York when my grandparents came over from Greece to live with us. My grandpa (who I called Dedo) would call my Baba (grandma) stupid (the most mild of them all) and she in turn would insult him right back. However, they loved each other. They stuck it out. Baba was there through Dedo’s battle with Cancer. They kissed, (granted on very rare occasions because they were old fashioned like that) they hugged and they even cooked together. I remember them making kielbasa (type of spicy sausage) in the kitchen while singing old Macedonian songs in their house in Northern Greece. As I remember these things, trying to figure out where we all went wrong, I realised that they did not grow up with the same amount of choice that we have now. Their world was a lot smaller. They met people in person; when neighbours still talked to one another. My grandparents went to the same elementary school and got married in their teens. My parents met at a Greek church while they both happened to be studying at Ohio Wesleyan University and literally after 9-10 months my dad asked for her hand in marriage. They tied the knot in December 1968. You do the math.

Love did seem simpler then. Less choice and no internet I imagine. Previous generations didn’t have unlimited access to porn. They didn’t have the option to look at pictures online and jerk-off. Or swipe quickly through hundreds of photos in the hopes that they bettered their odds in the return. There was no Facebook, or Instagram or match.com. There was nothing. So they were able to walk up to a person and start a decent and genuine conversation. They were able to smile longingly at one another and were able to really get to know each other. And finally, they actually wanted to get married. I know right, what a weird concept. By the way I’m not saying that everyone should be married. In fact I do think it’s just a piece of paper at the end of the day. What’s important and what I’m implying is the commitment part. The working together part. The being together through happy and sad times part.

I’m tired of today’s society when it comes to love. I’m tired that men and women take things like relationships for granted. That they never fully commit because they always think something better will come along. Why? Because there’s just too much choice. People date, start relationships and still flick through Tinder, Badoo and whatever else in the hopes of finding someone better. Someone that will love them the way that they want to be loved without any compromise. Someone that will do everything. Well here’s a thought. What about communicating? Meeting in the middle? Working at something with every fibre of your being? How about, stop taking the easy road. Stop quitting. Just a thought.

I look at both the previous generations and I see an era of fighters. As I look at mine, I see shrugged shoulders and whatever faces. I see women, my friends, yearning for love and always being let down. I see men who don’t know whether they’re coming or going. In general I see a bunch of confused souls happy to live the fast paced life of just judging someone by a photo on their screen. I see a generation that’s decensitised to everything.

What will the future hold for a hopeful old school romantic such as myself? Not much I would suspect. Because I can’t bring myself to go on dating apps. Believe me, I’ve tried. But I just can’t do it. I do better with talking to people in person. You know why? Because that’s the real me. When I’m texting, trying to get to know someone, I over think my answers. I type and delete, delete and type, 300 times before I send something out. I wait in replying because one can’t seem too eager, and then have to wait ages for the other person to respond because we’ve both listened to some invisible handbook of ‘How to court someone in the 21st Century’. However, in person,  you’re the real you. You also get to see the other person’s body language. Their tells. You learn a lot about a person with watching them answer questions or how they react to something you’ve said.

Maybe I’m too much of a hopeless romantic with an over zealous streak of cynicism. Maybe I’ve been hurt on one too many occasions. Maybe I’m not willing to conform to modern day society. Maybe I’ve over romanticised the past. Or maybe I haven’t.

Maybe, maybe maybe…

Anyway, I don’t know guys, maybe I will end up being a spinster for the rest of my life and that’s that. But I do know that I’m not so sure I will get to have what my grandparents had or furthermore what my parents have…

Parents

My Parents

But here’s to hoping that not all is lost.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to succumb to Naked Attraction and watch penises for the next hour. Because that’s what these modern folks are doing nowadays right? Eeehhhh…. right. Off I go.

❤ ❤ ❤

It’s Okay, You Don’t Have To Settle…

 

Now that it’s officially summer, I’ve been seeing a lot of couples snuggling and holding sweaty hands together. Definitely more than usual. Maybe they chose the couple’s path because they wanted a partner to do fun summer things with. Or maybe they’re just tired of going to gatherings as that ‘single’ person, so they found another single person to be their indefinite plus one. Or perhaps it’s just that love is in the air and I haven’t gotten the memo.

It’s sickeningly mushy just how many gushy smiles and long enamoured gazes of adoration are strewn in front of me. It actually reminds me of ‘Bambi’. You know when all of the young animals start awakening their inner lovey-dovey syndrome? Well that’s what seems to be going on around here and to tell you the truth it’s starting to make me feel a bit queasy.

At times I feel the pressure of being single. Of being almost 33 (in 2 days, eek!) and still not have a ‘husband’ and ‘kids’. The Greek side in me is saying you’re a fucking spinster. But the other side is saying, why do you have to settle for something right now? Why do I have to feel bad about the fact that I’m single and have no interest in men. Don’t get me wrong, from time to time thoughts  of attachment swivel around my brain. Not to mention that there’s also soft porn scenarios being played out by a strong Chris Hemsworth type that will have his way with me. But those are temporary. One where the ultimate outcome would be for him to come in, take care of me for a little while and then leave. In the long run? I’m not so sure I want to, or can, settle down with a man. And I most certainly don’t want to settle in life either. I’m not sure why I’m the turtle in this race, but I am. Where the glacial pace seems to be the norm.

Settling for me means that I have accepted that life has handed me a small when I clearly wanted an extra-large. It’s knowing that my routine will be like this for the rest of my life. It’s the acceptance of servitude. And honestly, I want more.

My life right now is very much a multitude of unknowns. I don’t have anything written in stone and I kind of like that. Sure I get stressed but at least I don’t feel the mundanity of every day life. I want to try and strive for everything. I don’t want someone or something putting me in a glass box so to speak. I haven’t planned all the intricacies that people do when it comes to their outline of life. I don’t know if I will achieve any of the things I’ve set out to do. But at least I can be in my 80’s with 50 cats saying “Well at least I tried”.

Love for me is a very romanticised  concept. As much as I loath the men that I’ve been with turning my heart into shattered stone I still believe that love does exist. But I also believe that it is a very precious thing, so precious in fact that people have not been properly trained in the matter. They fling love around like a tester dummy, not caring whether bumps or bruises form. And because of this I haven’t been able to let go. I do try, but eventually people have ultimately proven me right. Whereas I desperately am trying to be proven wrong. However, despite my hang-ups on this subject I still have a Pinterest board named “If I were ever to get married, this would be the dream.

So settling is not an option for me. I don’t want to be stuck in a loveless situation, nor an unfulfilled life situation. If I find someone then they will accept me for everything that I am and for everything I am not. If life somehow turns into a routine then I will always change it.

I guess what I’m saying, is that I want to look back on my life and know without a shadow of doubt that my choices were my own. That I persevered through the unbeaten path. That even though my advances might have been small, the outcome was in a war won. That love conquered me in the most genuine of ways. I’m not striving for all the riches in the world. All I’m striving for is the idea that my life can be what I truly see it to be and nothing less! For if it were less, then that means I would have settled.

❤ ❤ ❤

Easily Distracted By Niceties…


One evening as I was preparing to board a bus back home I did some mental exercises and a few ‘woooosaahhh’s’ to help me deal with the city. And by city I mean the unemotional assholes of this world. The ones where the city has hardened them to an unmalleable substance. Where the soot, grease and oil intertwine throughout their DNA making them the terminator from the first of the franchise. The one who did not befriend you through cheesy one-line zingers such as ‘Hasta la vista baby’ and ‘I’ll be back’.  Either way, one has to be mentally prepared for these kill-joys. Luckily, I was one of the first ones by the door along with a much older gentleman who happened to be my stepping partner. We kept shuffling to pair ourselves with the doors while the bus slowed to its designated spot, almost like a sideways conga line. All we needed was some Latin flare in our upper bodies and we would have nailed it. As the doors finally opened the older gentleman said really loudly, ‘the lady goes first’. I was like well which fucking lady is this and why does she get an announcement?! And besides, I thought me and, let’s call him grandpa Herbie, had a mutual thing going on with our cha-cha-ing. Did I mention he was in a cute little suit! Awww little Herbie! Anyway I looked around trying to catch a glimpse of this Whorebag who got the privilege of getting on the bus before me despite shuffling so well. However, there was no jostling amongst us commoners, so, I looked at my suited and booted grandpa for guidance. His sincere eyes accompanied by his bowing hand gesture indicated that he was implying… Me! I was the Whorebag!! At that exact moment I felt as though someone had placed a beautiful glistening crown upon my head. As I glided onto the bus, my head was held a little higher. If I could have done that Miss America wave accompanied by some ugly joyous sobs as I walked through the bus I would have. Therefore I guess you could say me and grandpa Herbie had a moment. A moment that happened almost a year ago now and I still reminisce about it. Sadly I wish I was over exaggerating, but I’m not. And thus, like the title of this blog and the photo quotes say, I get distracted by niceties. Simply because they’re few and far between.

You know I miss the yesteryear generation. The one where kids said, oh geez, and warm apple pies sat on the window sills of picketed white fenced houses throughout the land. Okay so I’m probably over romanticising it a bit but I don’t care. As much as I love the internet, I miss the old simpler ways more. Nowadays we have become desensitised drones who get distracted way too easily. Somewhere along the line we stopped noticing other. We stopped standing still to be present in a moment because along that ‘somewhere path’ we all picked up some form of ADHD. For example, I don’t even remember the last time I fully paid attention to a 40 minute TV episode. And I’ll have you know I’m in love with the TV/Film world. But I have noticed that I pick up my phone, or cook some food,  and pick up my phone again, watch some snapchat feeds, and then talk to someone, and then read an article that some blogger just posted, all in one show-span. But if you want to get the ultimate robotic paused glitch from someone then do something nice for a stranger. The effect would be as if a repetitive ‘non-compute’ electronic sign scrolled across their forehead. Hence when Grampy Herbie made that gesture it felt as if the old world matrix was cheekily interfering with the new world one. A glitch in the system that buffers and then resolves without the player dwelling on it for more than 5 seconds or so. Man I could totally watch the Matrix trilogy right about now.

Unfortunately this lack of contact refers to every aspect of our lives. When someone pays you a compliment your first thought is “he wants to distract me in order to put some date rape pills in my drink” and the second thought is ” maybe he’s escaped from a mental institution”. That is just one example by the way. What about when someone picks up something you’ve dropped. Or helps carry your bags up the stairs. Or someone goes out of their way to return your lost wallet and so on. Therefore when someone actually is trying to be sincere, all systems crash within our cranial cavity resulting in confused distraction. In all honesty I probably think about nice things that have happened to me from like 20 years ago. It’s like I hold on to them in a metaphorical golden box stroking it lovingly from time to time. A bit like Dr. Evil in Austin Powers as he strokes his cat.

giphy Dr. Evil - Austin Powers
So what do we do nowadays with these magical rarities of necities? I suppose we should pay it forward. I think when someone goes out of their way, you should return the favour to someone else.  Even though I will probably still fall head over heels for those mystical unicorns, I know that I will continue to be appreciative of those nice gestures. Because let’s face it… At the end of the day, they really do make you smile. And what’s wrong with that?!

❤️❤️❤️

 

What Will Become of Love In 100 Years?

what will become of love in 100 years

Recently I was thinking about relationships, dating and love in general. I suppose I’ve been pondering about it more because illogical things keep happening to me when it comes to men. That’s the nicest way I can put it. I also get super emotional when I see old people holding hands. Which I’m witnessing less and less by the way. However, I’m totally comfortable enough to admit it. I love seeing old people together. THERE! Anyway, in the midst of my contemplation I started to actually wonder if love would be possible 100 years from now.

Do you ever just take a moment out of your day to reflect on a question that’s got you stumped? Well, the above question did just that to me. In fact, it had me all flustered. It was a hard question to answer, even if it wasn’t based on scientific proof and just my own opinion. I don’t know what love is doing in this decade so how could I even fathom the concept of it evolving 100 years from now. What would that evolution be? Would it even still exist? Or would it become obsolete? All tough questions, I know! However, if I were to narrow it down, my general answer (after thinking long and hard about it) is that love as we know it won’t ever be the same again.

I always romanticise the past when it comes to love. I envisioned men bowing a lot more, with hats being lifted off their noggins. Women would let the men chase them and they would chase with vigorous enthusiasm. And once the pursuit came to a simmering temperature they both would settle and raise a family together for the rest of their lives. I think of these things and I genuinely chuckle at myself. Firstly, I am glad some things have changed. You know like feminism! But I’m not going to lie, men have become lazy and women are showing their goodies all over social media. Where is the romance? Where is the mystery? Where is the chase? I suppose things have to evolve. We change, ideals change, technology creates change. So I guess I can’t expect to find what my parents have found almost 49 years ago. They met at a Greek church for crying out loud. I for one don’t remember the last time I went to church. Therefore that way of chance meetings is completely moot for me. In fact all chance meetings are becoming moot in this day and age. Why you may ask? Well we are in the masked flat-screens of solitude era. We have become so used to burrowing our heads that we are missing everything around us. How can we expect men to pursue us when they have hundreds of thousands of women at their disposal. Just by one tiny flick of an index finger they start the sift-through process of weeding out the ones who are not worthy. No doubt when they’re in the zone their finger looks like it’s participating in an intense gaming session with the back right button of the console moving up and down in overtime. Can you picture it? Well here’s a little visual when they pause for a breather…

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We are in the age of now, now, NOW! There is no slow lane for the dating department. So when thinking about love in 100 years time it’s safe to say that it will all be digital. Perhaps like the movie “Her” where Joaquin Phoenix fell in love with his digital helper. Virtual reality will become more prevalent. And soon we will all be slaves to our mobile devices. I wish that relationships weren’t heading in this direction. But the knowing makes one realise that changes will need to be made. I must succumb to the digital era in order to find a potential mate. I wonder if I can start a movement to get away from such nonsense?

Perhaps with the way things are going there will be no spontaneity left. Maybe we will be assigned partners that will increase our chances of better, stronger, smarter offspring? I think the future will be more regimented for the sheer fact that it will be easier. And what’s easier than taking away emotions from a partnership. You simply put two people together so they can cohabitate a space, then they can apply to acquire an offspring from some facility, you raise that offspring with military coldness and then you die. Was that too harsh of a scenario?

Either way I truly want to hold on to that of the yesteryear generation. Aziz Ansari made it clear in his book “Modern Romance” (a must read by the way) that people used to not have much choice in the matter. That the true essence of choice has hindered our potential in the love department. And I agree. Back in those days it was easier to meet potential partners. Most of the people that Aziz intwrviewed all made one point clear, that their chance encounter happened within a block or two of where they lived. It was their inner circle, their community where they met their future spouses. Now we have the internet, where we can meet people in other countries. We hold out because we have higher standards, waiting for this perfect apparition of a human being. But all this holding out may hinder our chances to find true love. (If true love even exists.) There is so much choice that has inundating our daily lives it is impossible to find ‘The One’. If we find an ‘8’ that loves us we’ll hold out for a ’10’ instead. Furthermore once we have accepted a person into our lives it is virtually impossible that people will stick it out through thick and thin. Because we will always find an out. We want an out. A clause or guarantee that reassures us that forever is not actually forever.

I think the future looks bleak in the romance department. We will be like the clones of those obese vessels in ‘Wall-E’ where we sit in front of a screen ordering closeness with people online. We will seek pleasure through state of the art virtual reality goggles seeing the perfect body that no real-life human could ever compete with. Our self esteem will become a little flicker of a flame deep within the recesses of our souls. Or maybe we would’ve been so glued to our couch/screens that we wouldn’t have looked at ourselves properly in years. Who knows! All I’m saying is that if in this decade we are experiencing hundreds of outlandish horror stories when it comes to love then what the hell is in store for us 100 years from now?!

I’m wishing upon all the luckiest trinkets which might potentially exist in this world that it won’t turn out so  excruciatingly bad. I guess I better find someone quick or I’ll probably be doomed, forced to live a life by my lonesome with my stuffed panda bears and some cats. Oh wait, I’m already living that dream minus the cats. At least I’ve now got a goal, cats.

….ah,  I suppose it could be much worse.

❤ ❤ ❤

One of The Worst Things That a Woman Could Hear From a Man…Or in General for That Matter.

the fear of never being good enough

Originally I was going to post a nice little write-up about how my walls came crashing down and how I let someone in and how nice it was and blah blah blah. But in the space of one day things have changed and now I’m going to let some steam out.  I will try and keep the swearing to a minimum but if I stick with my truth mantra (always be honest) then the first part of this sentence is bullshit. Anyway, this is the story of the worst thing I could have heard as a reason not to continue dating me. It might seem long, sorry, but keep reading!

I met a man recently. In fact I was praising the fact that he had awakened something inside of me from the initial kiss to not understanding why I never was in a situation where it was the right time and place with someone. Yet I was happy that someone was interested in me. Someone who appeared to be a gentleman.

We met in Cyprus through a friend of mine. He made the first move. He was always initiating everything and let’s not forget to mention that he seemed like the nicest man that I had ever met.Which I know I’ve already said. After the kiss I didn’t think anything of it. But he added me on Facebook the next day. The thing is we both were coming back to England. He was living in Bournemouth and had to finalise some things for his permanent move back to Cyprus. Therefore he was going to be here for a little over a month. I decided to send him a Facebook message to see how the packing was coming along and before I knew it we were talking through Skype. And after a short conversation he ask to meet up at the weekend. Under normal circumstances I wouldn’t have agreed to letting a man, who I hardly knew, stay with me the whole weekend but I decided to say ‘Fuck it’ and do something out of my comfort zone. I was nervous as hell. I didn’t want him to see me naked. To see the loosened skin separating from my non-existent muscles. Truly, I was petrified. But I thought, he pursued  me, so he must find me somewhat attractive. On that Friday when he came over, I made a comment in reference to my weight. As all insecure women know, we have to excuse ourselves for some reason. And his response was “Are you crazy? Have you looked at yourself in the mirror. You have a beautiful face. And your smile is amazing. The weight can be fixed if you’re unhappy.” His answer was refreshing. It made me feel a little more at ease. And besides, I reminded myself yet again that this man ran after me.

Him being in London went without a hitch. He was affectionate, attentive, listened, cared, and pretty much all-round great. While we laid in bed on the Saturday he expressed his want for me by saying “Come to Cyprus”. Implying that I should move back there. I just giggled at the thought. At that moment this was just a good time and nothing more. On the last day he asked if I would come down to Bournemouth. Which I said yes to almost immediately. Why not right?! What have I got to lose? If anything my Va-jay-jay was getting a good clear out from all the dust and cobwebs it was harbouring. So it was a win-win situation. I made my ticket for two weeks later.

During those two weeks he called every day. We either skyped or chatted through more conventional methods. He would make comments about my beautiful smile, talk to me about what he was doing,about his family and past experiences. You could say this thing started to develop into something for me. Mainly because this man was doing things that all the others have not done. Which was to simply be there and be open and be present. Therefore by the time it came for me to go to Bournemouth I was a little excited to see him again.

While there, he took good care of me. On Saturday we were driving home from the seaside and he said that if we were in the same country this thing would have worked out between us. I was taken aback. All I asked was “really, you think?” and he said “yes I do.” So as you can imagine when Sunday came rolling along I was, surprisingly, saddened by the whole affair. The departure was torturous. I guess it was the thought of leaving something that I couldn’t see threw. That I will always have to say ‘what if’? What if we were in the same country? In the long run I knew that this man wasn’t for me. But for the moment, I didn’t want it to end. I wanted another few stolen moments with him. As I took a bus back, all the way to London, I cried. Not because I really cared for him, but because feelings had resurface from the depths of my broken soul. I remembered what it was like to be with someone. And a part of me yearned for it just a little longer. I was so moved by all these fucking feelings that I decided to write him a FB message. It simply stated that I had appreciated the way that he treated me. It meant a lot. He somehow made me feel good enough again. But after I clicked the “send” button I somewhat regretted what I said. I opened up too much. Exposed my inner workings to someone who I didn’t really know, to the point of actually letting my vulnerability leak through. So like all idiotic women, I had to send another message. Saying I shouldn’t have been so forthcoming. His only response was “Relax, I’ll call you tomorrow.”

As the next day came slowly around I was uneasy, unsure and very emotional. He called at 9 that evening and he asked if I was alright. I said that I was fine. And he interrupted and said “Because yesterday you seemed really upset.” I grew silent. Carefully selecting my words. “I was just a little emotional because I had a good time. It’s been a long time that I’ve been very closed off. And in the beginning with you I was the same, however something happened and I couldn’t help it. But I’m sorry that I wrote that message on Facebook.” And he said, “No don’t be. It was the nicest thing that I’ve ever received in my entire life.” And for some reason, something inside of me wasn’t feeling 100% with this situation. So I blurted out “Honestly, if we were in the same country, could you have seen this continuing?” And his response was… “Yes and No.” I was like what?! “Ok, why no?” He paused, and said “Well, it’s two things. One, is that you smoke and even though you are in the process of quitting I would ask that you never do it again. And two, (get ready for this one) is your weight.” I froze. I said “Wait a minute. Are you telling me that you wouldn’t continue this because I’m too fat?!” and he said “…Yes”. I was in such shock that I closed the phone.

How does a man have the right to say that to a woman? How does he get to build a woman up, her self esteem raised and her head held high, and then with one sentence render her mute, unworthy and not good enough. This man was basically telling me that I was good enough to fuck, yet not good enough to be in a relationship with. His words cut me. I was already insecure. I was already stressed out by society to look a certain way. He didn’t know what health issues I was going through. He didn’t know anything about me. Yet here he was, telling me that I was unhappy and that I should lose weight. Now, I’ll have you know that this man is no Adonis! So for the life of me I couldn’t understand why he said what he said. Because he for sure, has not found the holy grail of perfection. I think the thing that I questioned the most was, how could a man say and do all these things and then shatter you. I had been with different men all of which let me know their real character from the beginning. This one, I found to be of the worst kind. The one you never see coming.

That whole night I cried, and I couldn’t remember the last time I did that. I even called my friends who consoled me and cried along with me. Because they knew what I’ve been through. And they knew that this was yet another set-back in the world of bullshit dating. The next day I felt sick. I didn’t even want to look at my fat self in the mirror. I couldn’t eat and I left work early. I knew that I had to confront this man. I couldn’t let him off with such a sentence being unchecked. So that evening I called and went on and on for 52 minutes. He kept on apologising. He begged for me to accept his apology and I said no. I didn’t want to have anything to do with someone who was so superficial and had no ambitions in life. I certainly don’t deserve to be treated like that. And if I accepted the apology then I am accepting what he said. And no woman should accept that. He meant what he said. He said I wasn’t attractive but if I lost weight I could be more attractive. I mean what ever happened to the fact that looks will fade? And once they do, what in the fuck will you have to offer? There is so much more to people than how they look. It’s the inner workings that intrigue and fascinate me. Do they make me laugh, can we have deep conversations? Does he quench my soul?

So, what had I learned from all of this? Well, that men (people in general) can be cruel creatures. Sometimes, even though you may have super thick skin, there will come a time when someone will break your defences down and rip out your heart…. again.

At the end of the day, I know that I am a great person, not perfect, but great nonetheless. If the gods or the fairies of this world had intended for all of us to be the same then we would have been created that way. Evolution would have made us all identical. Like fucking sharks or alligators. At the moment I have extra pounds. So what! I accepted him with all his flaws. Why couldn’t he have the courtesy to do the same for me. Why couldn’t he look deeper? Even for a short while! But no, society has made everyone question everything about themselves. And I’m tired of always fearing that I’m not good enough. That I don’t compare to those models who have all the curves in all the right places. I’m tired of the shallowness. I’m tired of Tinder and Badoo. And I’m tired of men and women thinking that words don’t scar, leaving very deep open wounds.

I’m pissed to say the least. I’m slightly hurt but more so pissed. However, I know, as with everything else in my life, I will get over it. I will file this away with the worst of them and move on.

Ladies, we are all beautiful and bring so much to the table. If men can’t see you for you, then they can go fuck themselves. End of story.
Ps- On the bright side, at least I won’t ever have to say “what if” over this asshole. Which is exciting because it’s one more that I can crossed off the list. 

❤ ❤ ❤