The Single Life

To generalise and ignore the more intricate variations, there are two types of single life. The freedom loving, having a good time, enjoying it type...and...the lonely, evenings alone, contact (on all levels)free, depressing type. Three guesses which one applies to me...well I don't think I have the ooomph for the former any more and add a seven year old whirlwind, very limited means and no transport into the mix and the latter reaches out its steely grip.

I suppose it all depends on what you want. Well, I would rather be spending my evenings cuddled up on the sofa with someone watching a tv screen, rather than in front of a computer screen trying to drag people from it. Rather than being wined and dined (nice as it may be)I would like to cook a meal and have someone laughing and chatting with me while I cooked, on a Sunday, or any other day, I would love to be cooking a roast with all the trimmings and enjoying company while eating it..rather than a meal for one which becomes tasteless in the preparation. I would like to be able to just turn to someone and say "hey, you know what happened today...". Rather than play scrabble on facebook, knowing your opponent has found a cheat for the game while you haven't even found a dictionary,...I would like to be able to laugh and chat over it, find 'ways' to put my opponent off.. ..while having a drink and enjoying time spent.

Then of course you may find someone here and chat and text and, ignoring all your normal rules allow them to make you forget about distance..(yes YOU, if you are reading this, I won't apologise for writing the next bit..you have your anonimity and I have said it all to you in one way or another)...and you meet. It is all you want it to be, get on well, 'click' and think that at last you may have ditched your frogs and found the prince (hey, who are you calling a romantic fantasist)..but then the distance thing becomes a pain in the proverbial, all plans go to pot...but you still have the phone and because you spend so much time with it and your texting finger begins to have withdrawal symptoms when work etc. gets in the way...it never feels that bad.

Time goes on and still the plans come to nothing and this is when so many years of insecurities start hitting you around the head making you analyse things, reading conclusions into little comments. Wondering how many women he is chatting to while 'looking for...dating' knowing that when you met he was 'not looking now..' wondering when it was changed back, was it when the endearments got less...when the texts got fewer..

So here I am now, waking each morning with a text hug and by the evening telling yourself you should just give up...and will I...probably not...I will be here next week saying just give him another week...hoping above hope that the next text or message or call will be to say " I am on my way"...

Call me what you will..optomist, romantic, doormat, fool...I would rather believe that there is hope than disappear under the clouds of the single life...and on Sunday I will cook roast with all the trimmings...at least it will be a few ready meals sorted for the freezer..