Closure and new beginnings

It feels kind of right that this should all be happening in springtime – just as the blossoms fall like confetti to the ground.

I mentioned that the (ex) boyfriend and I were back in touch. It was a bit more than that. He responded to an innocuous message I sent via text a couple of weeks ago. He suggested we meet up again in person. We did. It was good but weird in that I felt we were just shadow puppets of our former selves, playing out a familiar scene from the past rather than two people re-connecting on a meaningful level.

I had told myself that it was fine – a “friends with benefits” arrangement; a stop gap; an occasional companion who I felt I knew and could trust. He told me he would do a few little jobs around my house when he got the chance. I began to feel like I could send him a few idle chit-chat type messages during the week to stay in touch without the fear of invoking a ‘subtext’.

We met up twice in two weeks – trying to fit these meet ups in at my child-free times but also taking into account his busy work schedule. I could tell that it was all on his terms.

Last Sunday night he came over – we talked about the next time. I suggested the following weekend and he agreed. I made arrangements for my parents to have the children as I was still in the dark with the husband about child contact going forwards.

Come Wednesday, I received a message from him at midday telling me he’d “fucked up” by double booking himself. He was going to be at a mate’s barbeque so he wouldn’t be coming to see me.

I’ll be honest, rightly or wrongly I was a little upset. I had carved out some free time specifically for him which is not always easy in my situation. Understandably people double book themselves for stuff all the time and under those circumstances someone always loses out and it’s most likely to be a case of last in first out.

Under other circumstances I would have been irritated but philosophical. Under these circumstances I couldn’t help feel like it was a really clear sign that he had placed me and ‘us’ in a category of friendship which could be labelled – ‘potential fun when convenient’. That didn’t make me feel too good. I guess naively, I’d hoped for more. I’d hoped that seeing me again would trigger those feelings of love and affection and happiness which we lived out for four months and put me higher up his list of priorities.

I mulled over any number of responses – all of which would have been bridge burning. I held back from responding at all until 7 hours later when I decided to go with “we all make mistakes x”.

I thought that was vaguely poetic. I didn’t realise at the time that it would trigger him into another, ultimately much more final, ‘goodbye and good luck’ response. He used my poetry against me. He told me all the nice stuff – I’m a ‘very special lady’ who deserves more commitment than he can offer etc. etc.

I cried. I felt like I’d been dumped all over again. I felt bitter. I felt lonely. I felt like I was ‘not good enough’. I’m a walking cliché.

That was two days ago and in that time I seem to have recovered. I did the passive/aggressive Facebook ‘unfriending’; I archived our WhatsApp thread – the one place I could go to find out whether he was still thinking about me due to the scrolling time-stamp; I found a Meetup.com social event which I could join up with on Saturday night and RSVP’d; I briefly discussed the situation with two friends at work and they both told me the same thing – it’s been a learning experience; it’s closure.

I had a nightmare or bad dream last night – another dream where I was watching a character in a movie being chased by a someone or something who meant them harm but seeing the situation through my own eyes at the same time. I woke up with a headache – no doubt I’d had my jaws clenched tight all night long.

However, today I have felt happier than I have in a long time. It’s a bit like a weight has been lifted off my mind – I no longer feel the need to look backwards in mourning. I can finally accept that my brief relationship with the ex was just a stepping stone on my journey and not the destination.

I spent a couple of hours with one of my good friends and her mum this morning having coffee and a good chat. I am in the process of joining a local tennis club where the kids can also get lessons. I am beginning to get my blog mojo back.

I finally heard from the husband who is going to have the children Saturday afternoon and evening which is great because it means my parents are let off the hook and I don’t have to do a 1.5 hour round trip to drop them off.

I am feeling more organised and using some of my child-free down time to get ahead with meal plans and shopping. It actually feels like a lot of headspace has been opened up by the demise of my relationship.

I’ve realised that I could look at my situation one of two ways: 1) I am screwed by my lack of routine, my lack of control and inability to attend regular events or commit to anything or anyone. It will be impossible to find love because no one is that flexible; 2) I am single and free to become a part of many groups and get involved (albeit sporadically) in any number of activities. I am embarking upon a spontaneous journey in the pursuit of happiness – one which doesn’t include a map or any road signs. Romantic love may not be a part of my story for a while but that doesn’t mean I am lost, lonely, unhappy or done with all the opportunities that might become available to me at any given time.

On the school pick up this afternoon I was walking along behind a couple who were having a minor domestic dispute and for the first time I felt lucky. Relationships are fraught with power struggles, little resentments and compromise. I am willing to accept the work that is involved at the right time with the right person but for now, it’s good to have a breather. There is a power in being a strong, single, independent woman who can fend for herself, tap into her ingenuity and recruit others for everything else.

I intend to expand my networks, keep up with my interests and keep working on my relationship with my children because they can only benefit from my undivided attention.

I don’t promise that this super positive mood is unbreakable. I know I will still have low moments when I pine for love and affection and miss my ex but I also know that those feelings will pass – quicker than they did before because I know now that there is no going back.

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Why is it so difficult to take my own advice?

It’s Saturday evening. I’ve been solo parenting for two days now (yesterday was the last day of school holidays). I’ve taken them to a posh “play barn” and today an expensive “leisure pool” with lots of water slides which was actually better fun than I’d anticipated.

We had all been getting on great but then I had another difficult afternoon with my eldest who became really stroppy when I told him that we were going to the park so his little brother could play with his new ball (I got them both £3 plastic balls at the supermarket this morning).

He was out playing with the neighbourhood boys and actually getting into a bit of aggro along with his trouble-making friend. He threw a complete wobbly at the suggestion of going to the park until I stretched the truth and told him it would only be for five minutes.

All the time we were at the park he was moody and whingey and kept threatening to throw his brothers ball in the fishing pond. When we got home I let him go back out on the proviso that he would come in with no fuss when I said it was time. Of course that didn’t happen and another immense wobbler took place which involved all sorts of bad behaviour including planting grass cuttings in my bed and chucking one of my boots across the bedroom, narrowly avoiding smashing a mirror (not his intention but still). At that point I lost my cool completely and raged at him which at least got him to back down.

Anyway to cut a long story short he calmed and mellowed over the following couple of hours and has accepted that he is grounded after school on Monday.

I have been struggling with my feelings around the (ex) boyfriend again. We’re back on friendly terms and I know he was off today for a weekend of camping, fishing and general merriment with all three of his 20-something children, his best mate and his adult kids too.

Even though I never met his kids, don’t like the idea of fishing (ok, can’t think of anything more dull!) and am more of a fair weather camper (it’s April in the U.K. and 3 degrees Celsius later on tonight) the thought of him out there surrounded by friends and family, able to do all the things he loves with the people he loves best makes me feel a huge sense of sadness and loneliness.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t begrudge him that happiness but I feel excluded from this happy picture and I wonder if he was thinking about times like this when he chose to break up with me. Did he struggle to see me fitting in? Think I’d cramp his style or just fail to imagine it being my cup of tea or something that could be planned around my parenting schedule?

I’ve sneaky peaked his Facebook updates and pics of the event. That didn’t help. I texted him to ask if they were having fun. He asked me how my evening was going and I very nearly mentioned the struggle with my son but checked myself. I didn’t want to give him a reason to pat himself on the back for having the correct instinct to dump me and leave me to my parenting woes! He was probably right, who would actively invite that kind of a headache into their life?

I decided to just give a one word answer to his question “Great. X”. Obviously I’m not a very good liar because he then asked “is that a sarcastic ‘great’?” To which after some thought I responded “I’ve got strawberry lime cider and Line of Duty on the iPlayer later. Bit lonely but life could be worse – I’m not facing down a Japanese death squad #everycloud 😂”. He agreed, life could be a lot worse. I thanked him and wrapped it up telling him to enjoy his evening with his family.

I continued feeling weepy, lonely and royally shafted by my current situation – I love my kids and I love having a balance between time with them and time at work and time to myself but sometimes everything falls out of balance, everyone else in the world seems busy and unavailable and feelings of being hurt, rejected and excluded come surging forth.

I’m very much one for positive thinking, ( I love the wisdom in the quote “when you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change”) and I want to be happy, I crave happiness. I also know that happiness is integrally linked to our expectations. There’s no actual “secret formula” to it, it’s a matter of adjusting your reality. I’m still an optimist but there’s something in the expression “expect the worst but hope for the best”. Also, if you write yourself into a story where only one possible outcome can make you feel happy or successful or fulfilled then you’ve just chucked all your eggs into one basket in a rather heavy handed way…

So maybe it’s time I start taking my own advice.

Somewhere over the rainbow, childcare works…

Another day, another stressful phone call with the husband. I’ve been asking him for a list of dates for child contact for the last 2 weeks since the old list ran out. In that time he’s seen them once – for one afternoon before depositing them with his parents for the night and not returning til the following morning.

The only date we had talked about and agreed upon a couple of weeks in advance was this coming Thursday – a school holiday day when I’m at work and out 9-5.

His attitude to me (which is never exactly good) appears to be on the down swing. He has no respect for me or understanding of what it’s like to be responsible for keeping the children fed, clothed, entertained, healthy, morally sound and well behaved, supported in their education, looked after when I’m not around, and just generally alive and safe and content.

I asked to confirm that he was still having them on Thursday and he just casually mentioned that he can’t any more because he’s got to work now. There was no apology, no sense of dismay for having forgotten to tell me as soon as he’d found out himself. Then to add insult to injury he implied that the there was something unfair about me asking him for a list of dates and told me that I am trying to use him for childcare. I tried to point out that as their parent, the childcare analogy is moot but he talked over me repeating the phrase “because you’re a little bit of a bitch” a few times before hanging up on me.

He had spoken of getting his mum and dad to have the kids on Thursday (his dad is 80) but I would be happy if I never had to see his father ever again after his rude and aggressive behaviour towards me each time (even after over a year of separation). I sent him a message telling him not to bother asking his parents, that I would make other arrangements.

I have sent a message to his ex wife asking if she would be able to have them for a half day as she lives in the town where I work, doesn’t work herself and has mentioned in the past that she could cover for me if I ever needed someone and she has willingly agreed which is a big relief as it is too late to book a holiday club now and I really couldn’t have afforded it anyway.

I’m trying to let it wash over me and take it in my stride. Having coped alone with this same kind of “help” (or lack of) and bad attitude from him for the past year at least I know I can juggle through, just about have enough leave from work and can just about afford to pay for childcare.

One thing is certain – I need more help from him financially, particularly if he is unable or just unwilling to care for the children himself when I can’t. If I can’t rely on him to make firm dates to have the children and stick to them then I need to make childcare decisions which leave him out of the loop for my own peace of mind and sanity.

I know from experience that he will get angry and belligerent if, closer to the time, he finds himself free and asks to have the kids last minute when I’ve already made prior arrangements, then of course I’m the bad mum who refuses to play the co-parenting game in the “best interests” of the children. Essentially I can’t win.

Also, I’m not sure if it’s simply a case that he hasn’t heard the children speaking about the (ex) boyfriend recently but he appears to have been pumping them for information.

He knew that the boyfriend was a smoker (although he’s given up now) and he’s been asking our eldest if the boyfriend has died. Today as my son was shutting the door of my car when I picked them up (they spent four hours with husband’s family) he actually shouted “find out about [boyfriend’s] funeral “. My son tells me “Daddy doesn’t like [boyfriend]” to which I reply “how does he know, he’s never even met him”. There’s bitter and resentful and then there’s selfish and hateful.

The people he calls friends don’t know this about him. They think of me as “Cruella” – as though I’ve not only wronged him by daring to walk away whatever the personal cost to me, but continue to wrong him by trying to control his relationship with his own children. I see myself more as Dorothy, caught up in the raging whirlwind, doing the best I can and trying to hold onto the belief that there’s a mystical portal of peace and tranquillity from all this insanity, somewhere over the rainbow.

One way flexibility

When I made the decision to leave my marriage I always knew that child contact was not going to be straightforward. My husband is a shift worker and his rota follows a ten week rolling pattern. I also had first hand experience of how he manages child contact due to the fact that he has a daughter from his previous relationship and his ex wife had gained a court order (I think) which required him to give her a list of dates for child contact a month at a time.

Despite this requirement I found him to be highly flaky when it came to getting organised and in the first couple of years of our relationship I acted as his personal secretary and compiled a list in triplicate – one for the ex, one for him and one for his mum who always wanted to know and be involved.

When I had my own children, I pretty much stepped down from that role and in subsequent years he has all but lost contact with his daughter – only seeing her on a very sporadic basis.

His ex wife has since told me that she wouldn’t have minded if he was out of her daughter’s life completely so she never really cared whether or not he wanted to see her – it doesn’t seem to have affected her – she took her daughter with her to the stables (where she spends half her life), but she also had a lot of family support on her doorstep.

If I want to take a weekly exercise class, join a book group, sign up for a local walk, cycle ride, talk or social event – well, I can’t because there is no family member who can drop in for an hour or so to do a bit of casual (cost-effective!) babysitting.

The other thing is that, much as I love my children, sometimes parenting them solo for a couple of weeks takes its toll. When I know that there is respite for a day or a night just around the corner, psychologically it takes the pressure off.

I appreciate that army wives have to live their lives like this but the difference is that I didn’t marry into the army – I think you have to be a certain kind of person or have a certain support network in place to thrive under those circumstances. Knowing your partner is out there, supporting you, a sounding board for parenting decisions or whatever, makes a difference.

Now, I’m not saying that I don’t get to make plans in advance with or without the husband’s cooperation. My parents have been great – taking the kids for a couple of days or the odd night when I’ve had a girl’s night out, a blog conference to attend or, this year, my big night hike in June and the pre-event curry and ‘practice run’ in May. They also take on childcare duties for a couple of days a week during school holidays which helps me out enormously.

But here’s the thing, the husband treats the child contact arrangement as a casual, last minute thing which he bases on his own convenience. Yes, he is often working – that’s not the issue – the issue is that he picks and chooses dates from his own spare time that are the best for him and he doesn’t want to commit in advance just in case a last minute social invite comes up that he doesn’t want to miss out on.

For example, at the beginning of this week he suddenly popped up asking to have the boys on Thursday. It had been 8 days since he last saw them and he had yet to give me a list of dates going forwards – he still hasn’t). I told him that I’d booked paid child care with my neighbour who needs the money (it’s school holidays). Later after talking to CiG, I decided I should be more flexible and I offered to cancel the arrangement so he could have them. He then suggested a compromise and now he is having them in the afternoon and overnight.

That’s all fine although I’m not thrilled that he left it to the last minute as it is a headache arranging child care and needs to be planned and booked and often paid in advance and I think when he already knows he has days off work during that time it would be so much more helpful, responsible and just plain courteous to let me know well in advance – particularly when I always make sure he knows school holiday dates in advance.

The arrangement was made on Monday, I asked him to let me know by the following day what time I would get the children back on Friday. It’s now Wednesday and today I asked again for a time (bear in mind that it’s Easter weekend and if I want to plan anything, either a child friendly day out or, if they’re not going to be around, an adult get together, I need to know what’s going on). He responded “I don’t know yet. Sorry. I may be invited out somewhere’.

Not only does he expect complete flexibility for himself, but he also deliberately holds back information from me knowing that it will prevent me from arranging anything myself – he continues to feel angry and aggrieved at the thought of me having a social life – he wants to punish me for leaving him.

I know this is not uncommon. In fact, I think this is probably more common than anyone would like to admit going by some of the single parent forums that I follow.

I read a lot of commentary that implies that wanting some kind of set pattern for yourself and your children (even if it is a changing pattern from week to week and only available a few weeks in advance) is just unrealistic and selfish and that trying to stand your ground and in some way ‘force’ your ex-partner’s hand in order to obtain a pre-agreed arrangement in a timely fashion would just be damaging to the children and their relationship with their dad. So essentially, put up and shut up.

I also appreciate that there are plenty of single mums out there who would point out that their children’s father is not on the scene at all, or that they have no family to baby-sit or help out or offer respite at all. In a way though, that situation at least comes with certainty – you know exactly where you stand, as hard as that life may be.

So what I’m left with is this constant questioning of my own decisions – am I being selfish wanting to have more certainty day to day? Or am I being a doormat when I let the husband get away with last minute requests or when he fails to tell me what time the kids will be returned? It’s not fair, but life is not fair so maybe I should suck it up? Worse things happen at sea? What do you think?

Searching for love in all the wrong places

So yesterday I decided to go ahead and meet up with the guy I’d been in touch with (Curvaceous Issues Guy – CiG). He phoned me again Sunday night and this time the call went on for three hours – again mostly with him talking non-stop. However on this phone call I got more of a sense of who he was rather than just his non-stop (frankly wacky) opinions about a range of things.

I found out that he has three daughters in their 20s each with children of their own. I asked about their mum at one point and he told me that she had died of cancer over 20 years ago.

I found out that his mum and dad split up when he was 8 and his mum bad-mouthed his dad so much over the years that he ended up disliking her.

We talked about my situation with the husband and he encouraged me to always put the children first and let them see their dad even if he leaves it to the last minute to ask.

I still knew that he wasn’t the one but I decided to meet up with him because sometimes you just crave that human connection and the novelty of going on a ‘date’.

When he approached me at the bar of the pub we’d agreed to meet at I had to do a double take because he looked nothing like his pictures. He actually looked about 15 years older than his main photo and ten years older than the one he’d put on to show his ‘ugly/hungover’ side.

I couldn’t help but consider the irony given his previous obsession with my appearance and just how honest I’d been with both photos and description. He was clearly very happy with the fact that I at least had given a truthful description of myself.

I’m almost embarrassed to say this but the date started at 2pm and didn’t end until 9.30pm (at his flat). That is mostly down to the fact that he just talked incessantly and there never really seemed to be a suitable point to end it. Come about 6pm I just cut in and told him that I was feeling hungry and would probably have to go. He seemed a bit annoyed that I hadn’t eaten lunch knowing that we were coming on a date. I told him I had eaten lunch of a bowl of soup and some yogurt at work at about 12.30pm (and obviously hadn’t realised that this date would go on for more than a couple of hours). He still seemed bemused by my desire to have an evening meal but I suggested we go somewhere – said I’d be happy with fish & chips and he offered to take me by the chippy near his home. I agreed – I just needed food.

When we got there he let me go in and buy my own food saying he’d just have some chips if there were any left over – apparently he had eaten a piece of fried bread and an egg for lunch and it was going to fuel him through to the following day (he has this dumb theory that essentially negates all received wisdom about how different food groups affect the body and swears by a sugar donut as the one thing that will fill you up and keep you full the longest. Go figure).

I found myself back at his place – the tiniest one bedroom flat with some tired looking furniture and a big flat screen TV. Again I’m not sure why I was OK with all this.

Earlier, at the pub, he had asked to kiss me and after letting him I felt like my teeth were clenched, I was shaking, I felt anxious. I told him about what had happened with the boyfriend recently and tears came to my eyes – I got quite emotional. He seemed compassionate and told me that there may have been a reason for the boyfriend to leave beyond what he had told me and that I would probably never know, but I should look on the four months we had together fondly as a lovely interlude in my life and then move on.

By 9.30 I realised that it was dark and late and I needed to go home (and have some peace and quiet). I’ve said it before but as an introvert its just so draining to be caught up in a social situation that you can’t get out of for hours on end. I felt so extremely tired but fortunately even he conceded that 7 hours was long enough for a first date and he drove me back to my car.

I was glad that I’d told him about the boyfriend and cried in front of him too because I knew that it gave me a plausible explanation to cut things off – it’s even true: I do need time to grieve; I do still burst into tears sometimes when I think about what I’ve lost; I am still so, so tempted to fire off a message and see whether I get anything back.

However it’s also true that I found some of the opinions CiG expressed to be anathema to my world view – his politics in particular. I didn’t find him physically attractive, and I felt he failed a bit at the ‘first date’ first hurdle by letting me buy the drinks and not offering to get my food for me (it was pretty cheap but it would have been a nice gesture).

His life and lifestyle seemed less than he’d portrayed – he spent a lot of time talking about various TV shows and documentaries that he watches and I think he must spend a fair bit of time vegging on the sofa watching ‘I’m a Celebrity, Get me Out of Here!’ and eating sugar donuts.

I told him I need time to get over the boyfriend and that I would be coming off the dating website in order to concentrate on being alone for a bit. I then went on the site and blocked him so I would become invisible. I have paid for another 3 and a half weeks on there and then I’m letting the subscription lapse.

Frankly it’s been a big disappointment – he is the only person who has replied to a message I’ve sent out (bar one sweet guy who had the decency to reply and let me know that he’s just started seeing someone else) and I’m not sure if people are put off by the thought of my kids (although I’ve only approached people who have kids of their own and come across as family types); or maybe they are already seeing someone, or they genuinely don’t fancy me. The point is I’ve sent messages only to people who have spent time crafting an interesting written profile and who have clearly got a fair bit in common with me so it feels that is pretty much it. Unless I want to trawl deeper and message people who live too far away, or who I don’t really fancy, what is the point?

I immediately start thinking about Meetup groups or some other way to meet someone but the point is life is too full right now – full of parenting, struggling with the co-parenting, work, catching up with friends and family, reading, watching movies and box-sets that I’ve missed, events I am booked in to attend, play dates, a bit of blogging and the occasional brainstorm about the book I will, one day, write.

I think that pursuing a relationship with anyone right now is just a daydream. I made the mistake of letting loneliness and the sense of rejection and plain desperation get the better of me before and I ended up spending ten years with the wrong man.

This is a time to re-group, consolidate what I’ve got and tackle any challenges head on without the need to keep relentlessly pursuing some kind of love interest. If it happens, it happens without me forcing the issue.

 

Having a wobble

If this is how difficult it is to get over a 4 month long relationship then thank god the break up happened when it did because any deeper in and I can’t imagine the devastation.

I think all this dating stuff has brought it home to me. I’d barely even dipped a toe in the murky dating pool when I met my boyfriend and it just seemed like serendipity to be able to bypass all this headwrecking shit that I feel I’m being drawn into again now.

I know it’s early days but somehow being pursued by non starters and ignored by the rest of the actively dating male population seems so much worse than if they never even knew I existed.

My boyfriend boosted my confidence so much – he made me feel so special – he had eyes for nobody else. It’s really hard to go back into this limbo.

Other than about 3 hours yesterday afternoon I’ve been on my own with the kids for the last 48 hours. Today wasn’t too bad – soaring temperatures here in the south of England and my eldest was at a birthday party for 3 hours, then off with his mate from the neighbourhood all afternoon so it was just me and my little cutie.

Still 48 hours with only the briefest interlude to interact with other adults does feel kind of lonely and then to be bombarded with two hours of chat last night during which I could probably have walked away from the phone and he wouldn’t even have noticed, combined with what almost felt like an attack on the things I *did* get to say left my head spinning. I normally sleep pretty well but last night I really struggled and despite not having any alcohol I awoke in the early hours with my head banging like a dehydrated drunk.

This obviously isn’t a healthy direction to be heading in and I probably need to stop.
I think it doesn’t help that I am not only losing three of my normally child free Fridays due to the Easter break but I also have zero child contact dates from the husband going forwards and psychologically that leaves me feeling like I simply have no respite.

In reality I know how lucky I am, how much I have to be grateful for. Being able to blog all this shit out of my head is helpful and I think that so many people must be feeling the same or worse than I do right now. Maybe someone needs to set up an IDA group (Internet Daters Anonymous) where those of us addicted to the potential highs but more often than not wrecked by the emotional lows can get together and support each other through this long dark teatime of the soul…

To date or not to date…

So I did what I said I wouldn’t do and signed up to a dating site. I realise that I am probably inviting trouble back into my life but there is something in me that I can’t silence – this need for a partner – and it’s even stronger since experiencing (albeit briefly) life with someone who was probably the best partner I’ve ever had – kind, caring, generous, emotionally intelligent…

I’ve paid for a month (must remember to cancel subscription!) on this one site which seems to appeal to a more literate, liberal, culturally aware breed of person.

Unfortunately I think I might have just thrown £32 down the drain because only one of the 6 people I’ve messaged has responded.

On the plus side he ticks some boxes – he lives in the next town over, where I work; he’s four years older than me; he looks ok (as far as I can tell); he’s taller than me; he’s writing a novel and he is gainfully employed.

On the down side, having spent a while crafting a message that picked up on things he’d said in his profile and made the effort to get the balance right he eventually responded “hey, how’s you? :-)” which was a bit underwhelming but I forged ahead. It quickly transpired that he didn’t want to spend ages messaging and would rather speak on the phone. Fair enough. We exchanged numbers and I told him it would have to be after 9.30pm when both kids would finally be in bed asleep.

I also thought I might as well make use of the fact that my parents have got the kids Monday night and suggested that we meet up for a drink (particularly because the husband has me in limbo again with no listed dates for child contact going forwards). He agreed.

9.35pm and in came the call.

I’m sure everyone has this little fantasy in their head when someone with an ounce of potential comes on the scene: this could be the one; wouldn’t it be wonderful if this was the last date I ever had to have? You allow yourself this sliver of hope.

As soon as I heard him speak I knew that he wasn’t the one. Almost the first thing he said to me was something deep about how we’re living in an age where no one really expects to have a relationship for life and we’ll probably all just keep moving on. Bear in mind that his profile specifies that his potential partner/date should believe in “real fairytales” I have to wonder WTF is that if not a lasting relationship (with a real person, flaws and all)?

He then proceeded to talk at me for the following TWO hours 😳 during which I barely got a word in edgewise.

At one point, having prompted him a couple of times with questions about himself based on some stuff from his date profile he implied that I was a bit of a stalker to have read and remembered those things! I said isn’t that the point, that we use that information as an icebreaker and suggested that I was waiting for him to ask *me* a question.

For a minute I breathed a sigh of relief as he informed me that he had indeed picked up on something I’d written about myself. He wanted to know just exactly what I meant by describing myself as “curvaceous”. I immediately responded “hourglass” but it was no good he wanted a detailed discussion (one sided) about the ambiguity of the word “curvaceous” (which I might add, was something I got from a dropdown box). Apparently women who are maybe a bit “obese” sometimes use this word to put a positive spin on things. I pointed out that he had seen a photo of me looking relatively slim and fit but he wasn’t convinced that it was a recent picture. I assured him that it was taken just three weeks before.

In the end I had to talk him through my exact dress size only stopping shy of giving him my bra size! FFS!

It got to 11.45pm and I finally managed to break his flow gently suggesting that I may need to get some sleep before the kids jumped all over me in just over 6 hours time. He conceded and we had a brief discussion on where and when we would meet on Monday. It turns out the best option for him is for me to roll out of work at 1.30pm and meet in town then as he works from home and later on wasn’t really convenient.

Honestly it did occur to me that I could’ve spent last night watching 2 episodes of Walking Dead and perhaps my childfree time on Monday evening would be better spent doing something I actually enjoy because I can almost guarantee that this will not be one of those dates where you walk away with that buzz of satisfaction having met up with a kindred spirit. Who knows, we might have sexual chemistry and there might be that but is it worth it?

I did explain my situation with the kids and the “high conflict” ex and a recent relationship which didn’t work out so in theory I could just turn around and say I’ve decided I’m not ready for all this, but then it would be awkward if he saw that my little green light on the dating site was activated. What a minefield!

To be fair it’s probably for the best that it’s not working out because I had told myself that I need to give it a year, or at least 6 months, or at least until the divorce was finalised before putting myself out there because otherwise I would only be short changing any potential suitors (haha now I feel like a princess using the word “suitors”).

On the upside it is one helluva distraction/moving on tactic to get over the boyfriend/recent dumping.

Send wine, send help, send love…