The Dating Minefield, and Other Musings

The following revelation will come as no surprise to the regular readers of this blog: I think too much. There it is folks, documented in virtual print on the world wide web for future generations to see. Maybe I should also have it engraved on my tombstone: Here lies Belinda, who thought too much. Or maybe not. Either way, I’m currently trying to establish a way of making my brain take a chill pill, without actually resorting to prescription sedatives or the rather more extreme option of opiate abuse (only kidding). Clearly I’m being flippant, this isn’t really a serious problem, but it is quite exhausting to always be analysing every little thing, weighing up (what can I say, being a Libra doesn’t help with this) the pros and cons, wondering whether taking Option A might send my life into a downward spiral whereas taking Option B could make me happy beyond my wildest dreams. Perhaps what it comes down to is this: in life one is presented with so many different options that it simply isn’t possible to take them all. You have to choose one thing over another – it’s the way of the world. Few travellers could hope to visit every country in the world, few food or wine connoisseurs could hope to sample every type of fare available. There simply isn’t enough time. You just have to do what you can.

So if we can’t ever hope to choose everything, how can we make sure the decisions we do make are the right ones? As Baz Luhrmann (yes, him again – the man is wise beyond all measure!) said, ‘your choices are half chance, so are everybody else’s.’ How true that is. Choices are half chance, which means you can never be 100% sure of the outcome; the pair of shoes you’ve been coveting for months may be beautiful, but once you’ve bought them they could be so painful they make your feet bleed; the package holiday you’ve booked may well seem idyllic on paper but what you soon see the travel agent failed to mention was the half finished swimming pool and building site at the hotel next door. And so the list goes on.

Of course it’s always rather more serious when it comes to choices in relationships, and herein lies my current dilemma (don’t think for one moment I can’t hear your collective sigh of relief that you can finally see this thread has a point – I know I am prone to the odd directionless ramble..)

My experience of being cheated on has changed me irreparably. Nowadays, when meeting members of the opposite sex I find myself checking off a mental tick list of whether or not they’d be boyfriend material before I’ve even worked out if I fancy them. I appreciate this makes me sound like somewhat of a bunny boiler, but allow me to explain. I am currently experiencing what it’s like to be single for the first time in my adult life. Never before have I had the chance to make an informed decision about what – or who – I’m looking for, and never before have I felt so strongly about holding out until I find it. The only problem with the holding out strategy is that I could be letting good men slip through my fingers without even realising it.

Take my current situation with Boy A, Boy B and Boy C (!!!)

Boy A is, on paper, perfect for me – similar background, two years older (I hear 2 years is the ideal age gap in a couple!), handsome, funny. Problem is, I suspect he has some baggage, and baggage is the absolute opposite of what I’m looking for. On our first date we got way too bogged down in talk of exes and family etc, and I left feeling that I’d spent a bit too much of the evening trying to bolster his slightly shaky confidence. In short, I’m just not sure I want to get involved with someone who is ‘needy.’ I spent 9 years trying to bolster someone’s confidence and look where it got me. He left me for someone else. Case closed!

Next up, Boy B, who I met on day two of a recent holiday and spent a few drunken evenings with thereafter. Despite my friend’s protestations that he was a ‘bad boy,’ he’s actually proven himself to be quite the opposite. We went out this week and he was sweet, funny and generally really good company (plus every bit as good a kisser as I remember!). Most importantly of all, I actually feel comfortable around him, and when he held my hand over dinner it felt really natural. But in spite of that, I can’t help feeling there’s something missing. I get the impression he’s looking for a girlfriend, whereas I’m not sure a boyfriend is really what I want right now – or is that just because he’s not the right one for me? As I said, am massively over thinking this considering we’ve only been on one date! The bottom line is I definitely want to see him again so we’ll take it as it comes.

And then we come to Boy C, a recent acquisition (!) from a dating site no less – who’d have thought they’d actually throw up someone with potential? We had our first date last week and I have to admit it was everything I think a first date should be - lots of laughter, stimulating but not heavy conversation (we talked about poetry, art, writing..), drinking but not to the point of being drunk, a nice dinner (which he paid for). Hell, I didn’t even smoke a cigarette for the duration of the evening, and if that’s not saying something I don’t know what is! Saw him a second time last night and whilst I did have a really enjoyable evening and definitely do fancy him, the chinks in his armour are beginning to show. After two dates I still feel I hardly know him. We talked about loads of academic things - writing, politics etc, but whenever I tried to turn the attention to him he just turned it around and averted my questions. He's also uber sarcastic, which I do like, but to a point. When I first arrived we were in different bars at the same venue and he was a bit arsy and made some comment about being bored waiting so he was queueing at the bar to get a drink, which I thought was odd. Then after dinner (he paid when I went to the loo - again) I had to suggest we go for another drink. So we did, and it was nice - we definitely have a laugh, but as I said I just don't feel I'm getting to know him. Or perhaps more importantly, I don't know if I can trust him, and my instincts are telling me he's the kind of guy that might actually screw me over given half the chance. I can't read him, and this worries me. So after the last drink we went outside, I had to go one way and he the other (he didn't offer to walk me to the tube - another black mark in my books), then he just kind of grabbed me and went in for the snog, which was nice (not as nice as Boy B, but nice nonetheless), then we stopped and he just said goodbye and we parted ways. Weird! Plus no 'hope you got back ok' text. I basically reckon he's either really arrogant (probable) or a bit shy when it comes to getting intimate (possible). Either way he's got trouble written all over him, and more than a touch of the Ex and the Ex-One Night Stand about him..so why am I hoping he'll want to see me again? Oh dear Lord, here we go again..

At this relatively early stage I think the only thing I can do is meet all of them again (if I actually hear from any of them again, that is!!) and see where that gets me. Worst case scenario is that none of them are right, in which case it’ll be back to the drawing board – disappointing, but not the end of the world, as someone else will no doubt come along in time (and in the meantime there’s always my sexy Saffa in Spain who is due a visit!!) Or maybe the worst case scenario is I like all three of them, because there’s no way I could ever be that person to play one guy off against another. Cheating just isn’t in my nature. But it is a quandary at present, because not only are there not enough days in the week to date this many people (!), but also because the newly single part of me is screaming, ‘No! Don’t start seeing someone! You’ve been in a relationship for the past decade! Now’s your time for fun!’ I’m scared to have someone special in my life again, and I’m equally scared not to. It’s catch 22. Maybe the answer is that when the right person comes along I won’t have to weigh up the pros and cons, I’ll just know it’s right. I bloody hope so anyway, this dating malarkey’s a minefield – and an exhausting one at that!

Anyway, dating aside (or even included) I must say life is pretty good at the moment. I really feel I’ve turned a corner where the heartbreak is concerned. This time last month I was in pieces when I found out they were moving to Africa together, but since then I can say hand on heart I’ve not only managed to not ask any questions about them, I’ve also started telling people not to tell me when they know things, because it just doesn’t do me any good. I’m far better when I don’t know what he’s up to, and I’ll be better still once I’m certain neither of them are in London anymore. Of course it makes me sad, and if I stop to think about it for any length of time I still miss him like crazy, but it’s time to move on with my life and stop living in the past.

In other news, I recently came back from a blinding ski holiday with my best friend, 37 Germans and a Frenchman – the same crazy bunch we went to Switzerland with last year, only this year it was Mayrhofen in Austria, and infinitely more messy with the (welcome but highly dangerous) addition of the phenomenon that is après ski. My liver is still not talking to me, and my post-holiday triathlon training has taken a definite hit as a result. But hey, you only live once, right? And the sheer amount of laughing I did on that holiday must have generated years’ worth of serotonin. Here are some highlights that come immediately to mind:

– The moment I witnessed my friend sliding down the mountain on her back, laughing so hard she couldn’t stop as she headed straight for a black run.
– The first day, when our ‘instructor’ decided to take the entire beginner group to a racing slope because he wanted to time himself going down it (in case you’re having trouble visualising a racing slope, it involves a rather large jump at the beginning of a ledge carved into the snow, across which is a barrier that you have to bash through to start the timer. In a word: terrifying)
– The last night when we stayed in a hotel in Innsbruck and walked straight into a butt naked man in the spa, after which a gaggle of Austrian lesbians forced us to strip off in the sauna. – Also on the last night, when we accidentally ordered the worst Richard Gere film ever to be made on the pay TV channel and asked the receptionist to come up and change it, only for him to accidentally put on a particularly graphic porn film.

Anyway, you get the picture – funny holiday.

So that’s me, in a rather large nutshell. Everything’s ticking over rather nicely at the minute. Summer’s on its way (the fact that also means the London Triathlon is on its way is something I’m currently doing my very best to ignore – especially difficult this week as it’s the official training day on Saturday – eek), it’s just been confirmed I’m going to Ibiza and Majorca in August with the girls, I’ve had two massages in the last fortnight (which, in case you weren’t aware, are pretty much my favourite pastime after sleeping - the most recent of which was at the myhotel in Bloomsbury where I took my mum for her birthday treat and was followed by afternoon tea with champagne. Mmmm), I’m generally (and somewhat miraculously given my recent holiday shenanigans) feeling pretty healthy.

Maybe having a monkey mind isn’t all that detrimental to one’s existence after all, or being single for that matter. On reflection, I seem to be doing just fine as I am…