MY 'ME-YEAR' FAIL.

OMG guys, HI! It's been so long since I've written and I don't know where to start in telling you all that has happened. Spoiler alert: It's been a LOT and I am still destined to become an old spinster.

Those of you who were here with me before will remember that back in January I was drinking wine and slipping into a well of despair, as you might recall that I had just been ghosted (for the millionth time in my miserable life) by my basically-neighbour, J. If you need the back story, it’s here huns.

Anyway, in the aftermath of that small breakdown I swore myself off men ALL YEAR. 2021 was announced as a ME-YEAR… Like me-time but on a big scale.

So - *picture this* - there I am, living my best life, having deleted all the dating apps, spending my money on me (hair, nails, clothes) and not dates, and I'd actually taken up a really indulgent hobby of having a bubble bath every night with a glass of wine. It was all very blissful for about… ooh… 4 weeks.

Cue a totally rogue Facebook message (lol, I know) from my ex, D. This isn’t one of the terrible D’s that you’ve read about on this blog. No, this is D my ex boyfriend from FIVE YEARS AGO who launched himself back into my life like a (very unnecessary) bolt from the blue.

His approach was… nice (familiar?) and had the perfect amount of romance balanced with his trademark blunt/straight forward style. He’d been thinking about me for ‘four years’, so he said, and he just ‘had to reach out’.

We all know that I am a total TIT, so obviously despite my initial plan to be aloof, mysterious, detached and not let him creep back into my subconscious, we ended up going on a date, didn’t we?

We should also acknowledge that he’s handsome af, well-dressed with good hygiene and nice teeth (thank God). He also thinks I’m hilarious, which I am, and laughs at all my jokes. This is all to explain why, from the second time we met up, I was an absolute bloody gonner.

Spring passed, Summer swung around and, because he’s a creative, unbothered type with a floaty approach to life it was all late nights and impulsive plans. For a work-obsessed control freak (hi), he's very refreshing and vibey. It probably makes his approach towards me superficial and insincere, but I was having a lovely time and didn't notice.

Then I got the ‘RONA in early June.

I’m sure there is no medical or scientific evidence to explain this, but having the virus in my system did the same thing to me as the bath time epiphany I had in 2020 (more on that here). Life SLAPPED me round the face and asked me to have a think about my relationship, properly.

While everyone in the world and their dog’s sister texted me to check in and offer sympathetic vibes, my (by this time) basically-boyfriend didn’t seem at all phased that I had been struck down. He did not call, he sent a sporadic text, he did not send flowers. When I lost my taste, I was explaining to him (note: When I called him) that I had a craving for fizzy Haribo as sour was the only thing that cut through the nothingness. He did not send Haribo.

I’m obviously making a joke of this situation, because that’s my brand, and things had been dwindling before this (I just knew he didn't really care for me) but he really was detached beyond belief at this point and I felt fluey, depressed and frustrated.

It’s important that we all couple this carelessness with the fact that around the same time he also went on a GIRL’S HOLIDAY (as in, he was the only guy with four girl mates off to Portugal for a week??? What do we think of that one chaps???) and managed to text me JUST once in 9 days. I mean, things were very clearly, and quite spectacularly over.

So, I ended it, and in a magnificently chaotic way if I don’t say so myself, including shouting down the phone (in public): “THERE’S LOADS OF GUYS WHO WOULD WANT ME AND WHO WOULD TREAT ME BETTER!” Obviously I was at the time, and still remain, entirely unsure that I actually believe this seeing as I seem to attract such a worrying calibre of man who tend to categorically not treat me well.

Annndddd again, after being genuinely quite upset, GOD BLESS ME, I hit the self-love hard. I went out dancing with my friends, taught myself to do at-home acrylics (such a hobbyist) and the wine baths resumed (not on those heatwave days though, I’m not a psychopath).

I felt NO urge to get back on the apps and I realised I really AM done with wasting my time. I don’t need to date to fill my evenings or feel validation, and I’d truly rather be single than being stressed out by someone’s confused, immature son. I’ve definitely said that before, but this summer I really meant it, probably for the first time. I knew by this point that I shouldn’t really have let D back in, but I try not to regret things too much.

After learning that just because I’d deleted the app itself from my phone didn’t mean my Hinge profile was gone altogether, I redownloaded the app to delete all trace of myself. I was ready to disappear into a cloud of self-worth and independence. Poof!

Out of interest, I looked at who’d liked me in my absence (because, of course I had to sneak a peek). All the usual suspects as you’d imagine (What’s more important to you? A good night’s sleep) and a whole load of ‘no’s’ later and then I see…. THIS GUY.

Creative, kind eyes, tall, well-dressed, handsome, a Taurus (me too) and the same age as me. He’s actually the only person I’ve matched with this year, which is mental, because obvs I’ve been off the apps / busy being treated like a mug by D / having existential breakdowns / wine baths. I got a feeling when I saw his profile (for God's sake help me).

I can’t write about this one just yet, though. I mean I sort of hope I never talk about him on the blog because this is a place for mostly disastrous stories, but it’s all a bit TBC, team. Pray for me! (Joking). (But seriously).

I promise I’ll check in again soon, and not 10 months later this time, soz. – Lx

**UPDATE** - Can confirm new Hinge guy is not the LOML. Like you didn't see that news coming hahahaha *pours wine*.