So several weeks ago I had a sliding doors moment. You know that movie where it’s split in two, Gwenie misses the train home and finds her partner cheating on her, and the other she catches the train and then a whole bunch of shit happens that I don’t actually know because I haven’t seen the movie. Yeah, that one. Anyways… I’m on tinder, tindering away and I swipe on someone’s face who looks SO familiar. I literally can’t place his face so I’m all like HEEEEEEEEY YOU! He remembers me fine well and I am instantly transported back five years ago where we were inadvertently in the same spot. Speaking to each other on a dating platform. But for those who are super astute, you would realize, this was around the same time I was speaking to BD. And we all know how that turned out. A little princess was born #worthit. So he was piqued to the post due to his timing and inability to just ask me out… but here he is again, saying things like “I’m not letting the chance go by this time around.” That fucking MEANS SOMETHING PEOPLE!
No pressure Bridge, but your whole future happiness depends on how you behave on this one social occasion…. Renee Zellweger nodding furiously with a fag hanging out of her mouth was playing in my mind as I rocked up to Portside Wharf for my date. The date was nice. He was nice. And for the first time in a while, I didn’t want it to end. God damn responsibilities. As I got in my car to drive home I had a couple of thoughts. Sorry in advance cause I know they’re both ridiculous and cynical. Did I make the incorrect decision way back when? This was a little too good to be true.
The first date turned into the second turned into the third and fourth which turned into dancing and laughing and hugs. Deep conversations, life goals and sad experiences. Passions and fears, smiles and long looks. He met a friend or two. He asked for a commitment. So here we are after the longest time. I’m in a committed relationship. This feels weird… One night, when we were having dinner at the Casino, we walked past the roulette table. “Do you believe in luck?” He quizzed. I shrugged and smirked. “which colour?” he said motioning toward the table. “Red.” I responded. “red is colour of love and you always have to give love a chance.” I high fived myself for being so smooth. “Red for the win,” the dealer called. He reached down and placed the winning chip in my hand and closed my fingers around it. I floated on outta there. It took a couple of weeks, but I’d caught the dreaded feels.
So, like an idiot, and like so many times before, your heart gets carried away rather than listening to your head. Little things started to become obvious. My discontent grew as fast as the emotional distance he started to impose and we went from all fine to “having a chat” within a week. Here’s how it played out in my mind.
Me: You ok? You’re retreating faster than the U.N in the Korean war’s Battle of Chosin Reservoir. ( I googled that)
Him: Oh really? Sorry! Please let me give you a cuddle and here’s some chocolates I prepared earlier just in case you were sad for whatever reason or just about to get your period. Btw, you look so pretty today.
Instead it went like this, in a fairly summarized version;
Me: You ok? You’ve been pretty distant the last week?
Him: I know, I have intimacy issues that won’t be resolved in a hurry. It’s unfair of me to make you wait. YOU’RE DUMPED.
Later on in the same week, my gf messaged me to ask why he was back on Tinder as she saw him while she was swiping. No sliding doors moment, no take a chance at a roulette table, no nothing. Just another full of shit guy who turned out to be an asshole. They’re not all like that though, and so the search will go on.