Fumbles, Fears, and Frightfully Shallow Water

Since moving to Korea my love life, until my momentary break down two days ago, was pretty much on the down low. 

Other than a first night drunken fumble with my neighbour and colleague (I avoided the large pile I left on my doorstep by taking over a brew the morning after), I haven't seen any serious man action .

My momentary emotional hurricane on Monday night got me thinking about how much I miss being taken on dates or even flirted with openly in public. I'm not saying either of these things don't happen in Korea, it's just I've not experienced them just yet, well unless you count the following as flirting, a creepily long handshake by the American guy that is actually nicknamed Creepy Joe, or a gaggle of girls taking my photograph in a supermarket.

Korean men are unlike any I have ever met. They are cute, ageless, and effortlessly sleek. Saying that, my colleague Craig is the campest man I have ever met (he'd put Dame Edna to shame), and that is not uncommon. It seems that whilst being gay is still taboo, it is perfectly alright to walk hand-in-hand around a museum with your best mate. I prided myself on my expertly trained gay-dar back in Manchester, now it's in overdrive and doesn't ever seem to be right as everyone is gay and straight all rolled into one!

Anyway, back to the straight men. 

The pool is quite shallow in the small city I live in, beautiful but shallow. Few men to look at and even fewer glancing in my direction. I am not surprised, however, as if I were male I wouldn't be able to tear my eyes off the skantily clad Korean women with smooth long legs, long flowing black hair and mysterious dark eyes. 

Enough of the mooning over Korean woman!! Ha. 

I have been asked by one guy called Jack. But I am completely unsure as to whether he has romantic (sexual) intentions or simply platonic as he is a serious woman lover. He asked me to go for dinner with him last week and I ended up turning it into a group thing because I don't know him well enough. 

(right so moving to Korea has made me afraid to go for a drink with a boy barely know, brilliant!)

Regardless he ended up standing us up. So, following the second offer today I'm thinking maybe he just cannot handle my hottness and needs to be alone with me and I should just put him out of his misery and go for a drink with him.

I mean obviously, it will be for his sake, not because I love dating...

Weathering Together

Good Morning!! 

I must send my apologies for about to start an absolute rant after so long of not actually blogging regularly for a ridiculous amount of time...but here goes!!

Isn't it funny how something that suffocates you for so long and when you're finally able to breathe it's like taking great gasps of fresh air? But the strangest part about whatever it is that's suffocating you, can still find a way to stop the air getting into your lungs, even after the longest amount of time?

For those of you who actually used to peer into my love life every now and then you'll know about the ex-boyfriend  even if you didn't you all either know or have experienced the classic-best-friend-from-uni-falling-in-love-scenario. 

Well, it would seem that over 2 years after our break up, a lot of heartache and break up sex later, he has a new girl. I had always prepared myself for this, not for the new girl per se, but the best friend bit. 

This is the bit I have dreaded. 

The giving up of the sexual tension we know is bad but still exciting, the knowing one another so well that it becomes second nature to tiptoe in and out of each others' lives, picking up the phone any time we want and exchanging stories. 

This whole thing makes me feel wracked with guilt because I've had other men in my life since him, several in fact, and so he has gone through this already. It doesn't make the shock any less. We actually had the conversation before I left that it was good for both of us to have almost 7,000 miles in between as he was as keen for him to move on as I was for him. 

Please don't get me wrong, all I want is for him to be happy but it still brings up that eternal question of whether or not we will still be able to be friends. I know from experience most serious exes do not remain friends, but I look at my sister and her "ex-boyfriend" and they are the best of friends, but still with a relatively fucked up friendship that 8 years down the line involves sex and jealousy. I do not want that and I don't need to convince you or me of that!

I grieved with him when his mother died, we welcomed our best friends' son, we celebrated graduating, we fought tooth and nail for one another whilst travelling, we looked after each other when we were sick; we became weathered in the storms of one anothers' lives. 

Letting him be happy (not that he needs my sodding permission!!) isn't the hard part, it's being the best friend whilst he is that churns my stomach.

So strange that the mind can make 2 years ago seem like just yesterday, magical in a way, but difficult all the same. Bloody mind, makes you so selfish. Ha.

In the most sincere (yet cheesy) words I can speak, I truly wish him every happiness in the world. Well, maybe not all, as I might just hold onto some of that for myself and perhaps taking a back seat in the best friend role for a while would suit us both.

Jelly

Do you think that it is possible to fall in love with the same person three times?

Despite knowing that this person will only ever make you feel trapped, yet beautiful at the same time, despite knowing that all of their hangups and insecurities has drowned you in the past and will drown you once more, and especially despite the epic journey that one is about to take 6000 miles away? 

Or does that make you only more likely to fall or is it just the chemicals whizzing around your brain? 


Is it just a trick of the light? 


I know one thing for sure, whilst falling in love is what we all covet it is often like diving straight into a giant bowl of jelly...to start with it tastes sweet enough but wriggle around a bit and leave it out in the sun, it can get kind of sticky and takes a lot of work to clean up...yet it still leaves a familiar mouth watering smell. 


Hm...

Blindly I Walk

So, you'll never guess who decided to have a little "friendly" chat with my last night on the ever fantastic Facebook last night?? Mr Sheffield!! Brilliant huh?! 

I am so angry. 

At first I thought I was angry with him for being in contact, and so comfortably saying "Hi Gorgeous". No.

I'm angry at myself for letting him make me feel like this. 

He is the boy who whipped the carpet from under me. 

Argh.

I want to scream. 

And to counteract how I feel I thought it'd be a good idea to go out on a date tonight, what was I thinking?! Well, I was thinking, distraction. But I reckon the fact that he facebooked me to "catch up" and quite happily slip into conversation that he is in Manchester today has not helped!!

I feel sorry for the guy I am going out with. He seems like a genuine guy whom I have a lot in common with. 

I feel like such a wreck.


It's like I've let myself down feeling like this. I don't think it helps either that the guy I have been dating, London Boy, is as it says is moving to London and I just don't have the energy to be pursuing anyone moving away. 


I recently wrote a card to my Dad with a poem in it about Dave, it is how we've been communicating and connecting through his ever stranger separation from my Mum. I said to him it's not how I felt now, but I did, and that I am so glad I don't feel like this any more. I told him that although it's nothing like how he feels at this moment in time, but that using my writing helped me to express how I felt. 

Anyway, here's the poem:

 

Blindly I Walk

I reached out –

Stumbling in the dark for something,

Someone.

I clutch at unknowns, and

Pull back at the shock when I realise,

I am all

Alone.

Confused still, at his departure from my life.

I try to move past the

short time I spent in his arms.

Instead, I merely skirt round

the edges of reason

Seeking company with

strangers.

All I find is Solitude

OK, I've just got a text informing me that my date will be here in 10 minutes so I better go brush my teeth and put the last touches upon myself!!
 

Risky Business

It has been FAR too long since I logged on and blogged...or even read my fellow bloggers offerings. 

I think this is mainly to do with getting used to life on new shifts and supporting both my parents and big sister through their times of need.

Since I last blogged: my sister's boyfriend (now ex) broke up with her via text. Ouch; my (not so) little brother turned 21 without me; my sister and I took my Mum out for Mother's Day and we danced until the small hours fuelled by tequila; and I started to date a terribly funny young man who is moving to London, who I then decided to dump whilst drunk because of this.

So, Numero Uno:  dumping via text. 

I have been here, it hurts. 

Mainly because you feel so un-respected and ill treated by someone who claims to love you. But here is the dilema: we ask people out by text, so how come it's not OK to dump them by it? Is it any different to writing someone a letter to explain how you feel? Or an email? 

I'm not saying it's not shitty, it is cowardly and unfair. We have all taken the easy way out at some point in our lives, we cannot deny it. 


This leads rather nicely onto Numero Quatro: dating London boy, and deciding to dump him whilst intoxicated. 

John - good looking, funny, sarcastic, laid back (sometimes a little too much), intelligent, and quite happily good in bed :) 


Three and a half awesome dates, and 4 weeks later he is still all of the above, just not going to be living in Manchester for very much longer.


Reasons why this sucks: I laugh constantly when I am with him, he takes me to awesome places to eat, his kisses are lovely.


During a very alcohol and food fuelled barbecue on Saturday I decided to tell him (over the phone) that maybe we should just leave things and not see each other again as he is moving to London (for work, in case you were wondering). 

To this, he merely replied "Oh, OK". 

But I was trying not to get attached. I know this is minimising risks and taking the easy road, which I have been telling my sister that we have to take risks if we want to enjoy life, I feel pretty rubbish now.


I don't want to lie in my bed now I've made it, or eat my cake. 


So, when John called me on Sunday (I quickly apologised for telling him how I felt over the phone in my drunken state) and told me that whether I thought it a good idea for us to see one another again before he left, we still would, why do I feel shit still??


Worst thing is, by this time, I had arranged for the guy I met at New Year to come down to see me. And hand on heart, this was all very innocent as I genuinely believed that we were friends and nothing more. Well, one thing I need to do is learn to have self control because more than anything, I actually feel guilty. And John's not even my boyfriend!!


I am tired now, but glad I got the John story off my chest. 


I shall blog about family matters tomorrow post gym!! Oh yes, I am trying to get fit for my jollies to Greece!!

Soul Mates

A little creative output for you to peruse...

Soul Mates

Moths in the moonlight,

dancing a silent waltz

They flutter and float underneath the deep dark blue sky.

Embracing one another,

They move to the purring of the owls and the rustling breeze through the bull rushes.

A big fat wondrous full moon shines her blessings upon them.

Each star setting the mood, 

The pair glide together in absolute harmony.

Sleeping through Valentines

Happy belated Valentines!!

This year was the first year I can remember actually physically yearning for a Valentine. Despite having a handful of men on the periphery of my life, not one means a whole lot to me. The Banker seems to have decided to take a back seat, in fact they all have. A lot of this is to do with me having no time, and it kind of bothers me.

I am so ready to just have a boyfriend that I am comfortable with and I know makes me happy. I guess that's what makes me miss Mr Sheffield. 

I went for a lovely long muddy walk with my sister, and her boyfriends dog, to Lyme Park today. And it hit me that I don't care about these guys, I would like to, but I just have too much on. All I want is a cuddle when I want it. And men can't do that, at least not the ones I meet.

I guess I am ready for love, despite the heartbreak over Mr Sheffield. I was almost there with him, almost completely in love. Somehow, without even realising, I managed to stay at the lust stage. Despite thinking otherwise. 

So, anyway, to the point of this blog. 

Despite me wanting a Valentine so badly, I worked for 11 hours of it and slept for 8. Which means I didn't get chance to be preoccupied with worrying that I wasn't beating the door down because there weren't piles of cards behind it. 

The day just came, and went. 

Simple as that.

Ironic, really. 

I feel exhausted though. I haven't spoken to my Mum in almost a week, and that never happens. And to add insult to injury, my old work appear to not want to accept liability for my accident and it could appear I may need a new suit to go to court in!! Also, I am waiting on hearing whether or not I've got the Supervisor position at work...


Scary grown up times ahead!!

So, other than a serious lack of Valentines or even noticing it was Valentines when it came round, I think I can wait another year before I mope around once more!!