Hiya! Apologies for the delay in getting this next blog to you, I’ve been somewhat waylaid by work, play and…a sexy geek. Well, a girl’s got to make time for welcome distractions, right? AHEM.
Also, I’ve procrastinated A LOT on what should be included in this blog. I’m not particularly proud of my behaviour from the moment you’re going to read about, but I figured as I pride myself on honesty, it should be included. Heartbreak does funny things to a lady….
Anyway….let’s go back to Week 5 Post Break up.
It was late November and I was still in the ‘let’s go out every night and drink ALL THE WINE/GIN/MARGARITAS’ phase. It was fun, I needed to let my hair down and also, it helped me sleep during what was a rather difficult time. Bizarrely, I never felt too bad the day after either. It felt like I’d been given a ‘hangover free’ sympathy card from the lesser spotted boozy Gods of humanity. I’d like to point out though that this should NOT become a normality. But you know that already.
On this particular evening, my dear friend & wing-woman Linzi and I went to a party at a posh hotel in London. It was an ‘industry’ event. In other words – ALL THE FREE BOOZE. Yaaaaasss. Suitably lubricated, we left the party and went upstairs to the main bar.
We ordered 2 large G&T’s and made ourselves comfy on the bar stools. Then, we were distracted somewhat by a tall, handsome, quirkily dressed man. My Dutch courage was in full flow by this point. He was charming, very sweet and I decided there and then that I rather liked him and would quite like to have some fun….
At some point between more Gin and a shot of Tequila, we had the ‘your place or mine?” conversation.
OH GOD. I DO NOT DO THIS. EVER. HOROBIN. HAVE A WORD WITH YOURSELF.
This inner monologue was of course, utterly futile. The decision had already been made. He was coming back to mine. Poor Linzi was saddled with the unenviable task of queueing for our coats. She and I quickly had ‘the chat’, which pretty much consisted of ‘what the hell am I doing?’/’Is it too soon?’/’You got this gurrrrrl’/God I’m drunk’/’Call me if you need me’, before I merrily skipped off into a black cab with ‘Mr Man’.
Got home, things happened. We had a lovely time. (make of that what you will). It then became clear that he expected to stay the night. This is where reality set in.
ERMAGHERD. I’ve brought someone home. And he wants to stay.
Here? In my bed? IN THE BED THAT WAS ONLY VACATED 5 WEEKS AGO BY MY EX?
Oh. Yeah. Him.
All of a sudden, my head, which had previously been full of naughty thoughts, was now filled with confusion, fear, and an inherently strong feeling of GUILT, despite the fact I was doing nothing wrong. Clearly, and annoyingly, I was still emotionally attached to the ex. Dammit.
I panicked, freaked out, and told Mr. Man about my predicament. To his credit, he was incredibly sweet about it all. Thank god.
Then…..I sent him home in an Uber. At 3am. Awkward. MASSIVELY.
In hindsight though, it was absolutely the right thing to do. The awkwardness in the morning would have been excruciating.
I always believe you should take positives from every tricky situation and the positive from this is something that my friend Emma said the next morning when I WhatsApped her the lowdown from the previous night’s events.
The first thing was, she told me under no circumstances should I feel guilty, and added that the first ‘conquest’ post break up, no matter who it was with, was always going to be difficult. She was totally right. Hearing that from a close friend was definitely needed. It gave me a sense of redemption and reassurance.
She also made me laugh. When I filled her in on how the night ended with him getting sent home in an Uber, this was her response…
The poor bastard.
I’m crying here. (insert lots of crying laughing face Emoji’s…)
The moral of the story is, make sure you’re ready, even before having a ‘harmless’ one night stand. Also, don’t make a habit of it, even though I know loads of you fellow singletons do. There’s nothing wrong with that, but it’s not really how I roll. Emotionally, I was still nowhere near ready for ANYTHING. I’d done the typical thing of stubbornly convincing myself and everyone else that I was ‘fine’, ‘over it’ and every other post break up cliché you can think of. We all do that, right? But, I wasn’t. They don’t say time’s a healer for nothing you know. It’s true.
Until next time….