What’s wrong with being safe?
Now I’m not saying I never take risks, writing this for the world to see my true feelings, that’s a bloody huge risk. Undergoing gastric bypass surgery, a risk. Having a flutter on the roulette table, a risk. Telling your crush how you really feel about them, another huge risk. But ok, yeah I’m not one for jumping out of airplanes or risky adrenaline fuelled sports…that doesn’t mean I’m boring though.
Last night I was supposed to have a date, not a first date, oh no, a second date full of promises that came from the first and extended into the 10 days since I last saw him. Let’s give him a name, we’ll call him Mr H…short for Mr Hopeyoudiealongandpainfuldeath…
So Mr H was very charming at first glance, respectable, intelligent, ticking all the right boxes for me. We had a nice evening on the first date…so nice we didn’t want it to end even when the pub closed its doors. That doesn’t mean he came back to mine – not on a first date, what kind of girl do you think I am?
We agreed to see each other again, but had to blow each other out, it was a mutual agreement. I was so tired I didn’t think it was safe to get behind the wheel of a car and he wasn’t feeling well.
So, cue a week in France snowboarding for him and a week of waiting for his return and planning a lovely weekend together for me.
I set the scene, I pampered and I preened I bought in his favourite hot drink (what a waste of £4, no one else in the house will drink that shite). I bent over backwards and how am I repaid? A bullshit excuse which basically panned out to be his cowardly get out. He said it bothered him that I would go on a skiing holiday and spend it in the chalet knitting. Erm, hello, I’ve never been on a skiing holiday…I said I’d like the chance but that I’d never skied…So being strapped to two short planks and sent hurtling down a mountainside isn’t my idea of fun…I can live with that, say we are not suited and move on.
But no, Mr H can’t leave it at that. His next comment cut deep like a knife, soaked in lemon juice, he said there was “the small issue that you are clinically/morbidly obese and you never mention exercise. Good health is important to me”.
No shit me too- for my own mental health I am glad this emotional fuckwit is out of my life, but seriously? What cruel bastard says that?
I replied to say that I hope he finds what he is looking for…along with his fucking spine!
I have been going from upset (cue sobbing), to angry and back to more crying. My eyes are sore and my head hurts, I’ve not eaten much because I don’t feel hungry, my stomach is in knots. Yet why? Why should I be the one feeling bad because of a dick like that?
The problem is, every man I have ever allowed myself to like has always chewed me up and spit me back out again. But never has one basically said “you’re boring and you’re fat”. I think I’m allowed to cry, even for a tiny bit.
Ok, so I am not an adrenaline junkie. Don’t write me off as a granny just because I knit. If anything be proud of the fact I took a hobby up to stop myself from binge eating pre bypass…and made it into a business.
There has to be a guy out there who wants someone like me..someone who can’t do enough to help anyone, someone who cooks, cleans, bakes and does it with a smile on their face. Someone who will go out to the supermarket at 11pm just because you’re out of your favourite showergel. Someone who always puts others first. What’s wrong with that?
The good thing is I know I can do so much better than Mr H. I probably had a lucky escape. But don’t write me off because I’m safe…don’t think that just because I’d rather spend my Sundays making things, having coffee with friends or reading interesting articles that I’m going to be a bore. Far from it.
The adrenaline rush I get is from making something from scratch, seeing the happiness in the recipients eyes and from achieving a goal, no matter how small. I don’t need to hurtle at breakneck speed down a ski slope to do that. I don’t need alcohol to make me have a good time. I don’t need a man who will offer me the world, I have my own, which for the immediate future will be reserved just for me.