July Days

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Nice Guy texts me from the airport.CC Image courtesy of Aided_Eye on Flickr

‘[Something funny and flirty].  See you in July…’

I’m fine with this.  Sure, you hear stories about people who from the point of meeting can’t go a day without talking to each other.  But I’m realistic.  The guy’s managed just fine without me for twenty-five years.  I can handle ten days of radio silence.

What I wasn’t fine with was what came next: no text, no phone call, no scheduling of the proffered dinner.  And I know, courtesy of Facebook, that there was no plane crash.


A week goes by.  I ask my brother for an analysis of the situation.

‘Some people in London work really hard!’

I wag my finger.  ‘If you really like a girl, you’ll make time.’

He shrugs.  ‘Then… he must have met someone else – or changed his mind.’

CC Image courtesy of 24gotham on Flickr

I wait until I’m feeling brave, and ask my mum.  Bizarrely she doesn’t think it’s a lost cause.

‘With men,’ she says, ‘it’s very much a case of ‘out of sight, out of mind’.’

‘Surely it doesn’t bode well if he’s forgotten me after ten days?’


That’s more like it.

CC Image courtesy of Umme Salma Handani on Flickr

‘It’s really strange,’ my friend says, scrolling down.

‘I know!’

‘”See you in July” – the texts, I mean, they’re exactly what you’d want to see!’


‘There’s not even anything here which you have to twist to read the way you want to read it!’

‘I know!  Our skills are completely redundant!’

We laugh.

‘Maybe….’  She frowns.  ‘How many days are there in July?’

I laugh and rest my head on her shoulder. ‘Thirty-one.’

‘There’s still time.  Maybe he’s had to sort stuff out at work…’

‘Maybe he meant next July!’

CC Image courtesy of palomaleca on Flickr

On The Couch

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‘How do you know he’s interested?’ Flatmate says.CC Image courtesy of dichohecho on Flickr

Don’t like the question.

‘Errr… he – he asked me to dance?’  I say.

It was the way he did it.

‘And he messaged me on Facebook, and…’

And then I invited him to something, and he kept the conversation going over text…

‘… he texts me…’

And then I might’ve suggested meeting up, though only because he said to let him know if I was working near his offices, and so we went for coffee…

‘… and we had coffee?’ I wind up.

I guess he could just be being friendly.

‘Right.  How do you know he isn’t just being friendly?’ 


‘Because… I don’t.’

‘OK, so your expectations are the reason you get hurt and stressed about these things.  You have to have no expectations.’


‘I know,’ I say.  ‘I know!’

I do – sort of.

Flatmate goes on:

Until you’ve been seeing a guy regularly for at least two months, he’s just playing with you.’ 

I cross my arms and scowl.

‘He’s not allowed to play with me.’

Get out of the sandpit.

CC Image courtesy of foilman on Flickr


Dog’s Bollocks

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‘So how exactly was it left?’

I sigh. ‘Well… that’s why I’m fucked off!’

‘Or not, as the case may be…’

This is my mother on the line.

‘Yeah, well, quite.’

I bring her up-to-date.

‘… so it’s been… three days since I last heard from him.’


‘I hope he does get in touch because… we did get on really well.’

‘Is he the kind of guy who gets on well with everyone?’

She is so annoying.  I delay answering.

‘Yeah, well… yes.’

‘I hate to say it…’

Isn’t your mother supposed to think you’re the dog’s bollocks or something?

‘I know, I know.  It’s like what you said just after I’d met him.’

‘What did I say?’

‘You said, “Is he cool, charming, gorgeous and funny?”  I don’t think you needed to say anything else!’

We laugh.

‘I hate to say it, but I think you’d better move on.’

Cruel to be Kind

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CC Image courtesy of crosathorian on FlickrI thought Thursday Guy was just another crush, another notch on my emotional bedpost.  But then the insomnia started, accompanied by the sending of crazy emails to my best friend at 4am.  I had been so sure that there was something there that it was proving difficult to let go.

Wednesday evening, I rang my Mum.

‘No word from Thursday Guy.’


‘It’s been nearly three days and he hasn’t replied to my message.  Not a good sign, eh?’

‘Did you ask him a question?’

‘Yes, I asked if he’d had a nice weekend.  Shouldn’t have done that, should I?’

‘Hmmm probably not.’

‘I guess I just got the impression he liked me so I didn’t feel the need to play games… maybe, cos it’s lovely weather, he’s not at his computer much…’


Two lessons that can be learnt from the above:

  1. If you are using the weather to explain a man’s silence, it is time to move on.
  2. If you want someone to lie to you and say what you want to hear but know to be untrue, call a friend, not your mother.

CC Image courtesy of edd_b on Flickr

Related Posts:

Aged To Perfection?

Dog’s Bollocks

July Days