I should tell you about Courier Guy. The short version of the story is this – we spoke LOTS for about a week, made a first date and then I didn’t go. Do you want to know why I didn’t go? Because I compared him to Brown Eyes, that’s why I didn’t go. I cancelled on him. I told him I had an urgent workload that I couldn’t get out of, and we’d reschedule for another time.
He was really pissed at me. He’d rushed around to get his work finished in time to make our date, and now he was going to need to go home and sit by himself. On a Friday night too. Shocking.
I felt like an asshole. However, I was also glad that whole situation went down the way it did. He went on and on and on about me cancelling that date for HOURS. I kept saying to him – I’m not cancelling, I’m rescheduling, there’s a difference. But with every whiny message he sent in return, my interest in him dwindled until eventually, it disappeared entirely. My messages became less and less frequent and in the end, we just stopped talking. I think I ghosted him. But I spoke about this recently, the whiny-thing I mean – Things That Turn Me Off #1: Really Whiny Men. It’s a real deal-breaker for me. I can’t stand a whingebag.
Let’s go back to WHY I cancelled though. Whingebag aside, he was an awesome guy. Plus I didn’t know about the whingebag status until after I cancelled on him. Tall, greying hair (lie – grey, I have a thing for older guys apparently), nice eyes, smiley face, handsome chap really. Looks great in a tux. Can wear a salmon pink shirt quite nicely. Well-built. Big hands. Funny too. I always seem to be laughing. He didn’t have the best job in the world but was happy enough with life, and who am I to judge what he does for a living? I feel a little bad about being so superficial about it before. But he was / is a great guy, a guy who *said* he’d treat me well – hold open doors, pull back chairs, be polite and respectful to a woman … out of the bedroom. An old-fashion gentleman with a filthy sense of humour. Wasn’t that what I wanted? 16 years my senior, no kids, no ex-wife, single for 12 years apart from that ten-week period two years ago where he dated a ‘proper little princess’ and wished he hadn’t. Plus I was attracted to him. I don’t seem to be sexually attracted to that many people these days. I find men ‘hot’, but they’re not hot enough for me to want to lick them from head to toe, you know?
But Courier Guy, although hot, wasn’t Brown Eyes. I didn’t make an obvious comparison but the closer we got to the date, I found myself thinking little things like ‘BE wouldn’t have said that’ or ‘he’s not as hairy as BE’. I guess BE really was what I wanted. Or maybe it was just too soon and he was clouding my judgement? Either way, I knew the date was a bad idea so I cancelled and he turned into a whingebag. He chose a really busy week to be a whingebag too. I barely had time to grab my phone at all, let alone deal with his whiny messages. I ghosted him because I literally didn’t have time for him, him or his little temper tantrum. I get that he was annoyed, but I DID have work to do (although not as urgent as I made out), and if I’d gone, I wouldn’t have given him a chance. He just wasn’t BE and at that time, on that day, BE was all I was thinking about. That’s not fair on Courier Guy. He deserves a fair shot. I did the right thing, right? Plus, like I kept saying to him, I didn’t cancel on him, I was simply requesting to reschedule.
I read somewhere that it takes you half the time you were with someone to get over them and if that’s the case, I’m basically almost there. BE was the most briefest of encounters and I’m already barely thinking of him. I’ve kept myself as busy as possible so that this breakup was as swift and as painless as possible. Dragging it out would be pointless. He’s never coming back. And yes, despite my protests, of course I ‘waited’ for him. I DID think he’d come back with his tail in between his legs. My bad. But I’ve made it my good too – I worked out, toned up a little, lost ten pounds, got my hair done, re-did my dating profile, went to the zoo, cried a bit, swore a lot, thought about getting drunk and banging someone completely inappropriate before realising I’m not that girl now … I feel better now. We were together for what? 8 / 10 weeks? Barely any time at all. I need just four weeks to get over him then, if that half-life rule is anything to go by. I’m three weeks in. I just need a little more time. I already feel a million times better. I’ve talked myself through this breakup spectacularly.
Maybe being thirty ain’t so bad! 😉
For the record, the soundtrack for this blog post was this song which I FUCKING LOVE right now:
I’m suggesting it for any broken-hearted ladies.
“I’ll get get over you”
** I’ve recently been celebrating a 30th birthday (mine) so this post is a few days late. On my birthday, a couple of days after I started writing this, Courier Guy sent me a voice message wishing me a happy birthday and telling me he was gutted that things had ended the way they had. He couldn’t stop thinking about me and even though we’d only been talking for a little while, he missed talking to me once I’d gone. He would at least like the opportunity to meet me, he was sorry he had overreacted about me cancelling the date. He assumed that I’d either met someone else (because that happened to him before), or I just wasn’t interested and didn’t know how to tell him (which also happened to him before). He now felt like an ass because of that assumption.
We’ve re-scheduled our date for Friday. Why? ‘Coz second chances, that’s why.