Saved by a stranger on the tube.

Posted on June 10, 2013

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This past few weeks have been somewhat a mixed bag on incredible highs and illustrious lows. I’ve watched loved up people in the street and been unwillingly forced to remember what that feels like, wondering when I’ll feel it again. I went on promising internet dates hoping to kick start a new romance, only to come away feeling miserable and alone.

One particular guy was a real let down. Heaps of cyber chemistry but the minute we met I knew there was nothing there, only we role played it out the entire evening, not quite ready yet to admit defeat. An awkward mechanical kiss toward the end of the evening sealed it’s fate, and then this sulking 28 year old went quiet when he realised he was gonna have to get the night bus home.

The other date was with that nice kiss i’d drunkenly had on the bank holiday – only it turned out I’d had massive beer goggles, and my date turned up dressed head to toe in blue, sweating like a muther fu*ker in the English summer heat, with his overly gelled hair and Mercutio goatee. It didn’t go down well either, when I kept asking him the same questions I’d apparently asked him that night we’d met. I must have a rather disturbing repertoire… not to mention a ridiculously bad memory. Didn’t remember anything about him, bar his name. Which was in my phone…

Then I had a drink with a guy off my swingers website, let’s call him SANTI – and it was like Christmas – with genuine surprises. The green food caught in his teeth wasn’t even enough to put me off with this one… but despite the chemistry and tactile goodbye, I’ve not heard from him yet – and it’s a hard to call as to whether I will.

I sort of descended into this spiral of insecurity and depression toward the end of the weekend, negative thoughts crowning me and all I wanted to do was escape my head. I saw a bit of a sad play on Saturday night about two people who fell in love but couldn’t do anything about it; and ended up having to reach out to an old male friend of mine today, ready to admit defeat. I needed help, someone to tell me i’m okay, I’m not a loser, that I’m attractive, charming, and not an auditionee for the Undateables TV show. All those things that seem silly to want to hear as a fully fledged grown up, but it doesn’t matter how normal and steady the outside world perceives you, we all doubt ourselves on sometimes. So I was wondering if he might tell me what’s so wrong with me that I don’t even get asked to a 2nd date with all these total losers!

This is the guy that I hooked up with one night when I got high, a good few years back now – and unfortunately it ruined my relationship with a guy I really liked. I don’t regret many things in life, but I do regret that. We were having an open relationship, so I technically didn’t do anything wrong but getting together with a friend didn’t go down very well with my guy, and he freaked out and did a runner.

But then like I say, you can’t wanna be with someone all that much if you walk away that easily. And I was a little crazy back then. And I think he was too – wanting me to stub cigarettes in his face during arguments etc. Kinky or crazy? You decide. But I digress.

So there I was this afternoon, blowing up balloons to my own pity party. I didn’t know if I could escape my head but I knew I could get outta town, take a little trip somewhere. I spent the afternoon sacking off work and looking into places I go for a retreat from my life. Until I realised that I would lose too much money from not working combined with the cost of a holiday on top. I didn’t think things could get any worse. In hindsight I realise they could, but this afternoon I was in a pretty bad way. I just felt hopeless. Like no one loved me. That feeling. I know you’ve all had it before.

I have been missing old friends and lovers who are no longer in my life, and who I wish I didn’t think about anymore, and was just feeling like a general loser extraordinaire in my ugly oversized Harold glasses.

Then there he was on the tube.

I could feel his eyes on me, and when I caught him looking at me he smiled.

My first thought was that he must have been looking at me wondering why a girl like me is wearing such ridiculously ugly old man glasses.

As I studied his face I realised how beautiful he was. Truly stunning. I could see myself melting on that face. Kissing that face. Snuggling with that face. I rarely fancy guys so this was really out the blue!

I started imagining what might happen if I had a pair of balls, if that ring wasn’t actually on his wedding finger, and if what would happen if I started talking to him. I might ask him if we have met before, just to strike up a conversation – maybe give him my business card when we can’t figure out where we’ve met  ‘Just in case like, you remember and you want to let me know….’

As I sat there realising I was never going to speak to him, he caught my eye again and smiled.

Maybe he’s not married?

FUCK I WISH HE WASN’T MARRIED.

We both got up to leave the train at London Bridge, and he smiled and nodded to say goodbye. A connection was made for sure, and we never even spoke a word to each other.

So there you have it – I’ve still got it!

Just as I was about to give up on myself, on love, romance, sex and the whole nine yards of celibacy looked closer than it has ever looked before – I realised that someone had given me a sign. Married or not, that guy was sent to me to tell me not to give up.

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Posted in: Journal