People who get married more than twice

I know that I have too lofty an idea of what a marriage should be like but christ, what is going through people's heads when contemplating getting married to a third (or whatever number) different person?

Surely you'd be thinking 'you know, I obviously ain't that good a judge of character so why don't we take it easy to begin with.' Also how can the 'wonder' of marriage still be intact when you've just had two shitty examples of it?

Everyone can make a mistake and that's fine but if you get to your third, you really should just say to yourself 'Maybe marriage and I just don't get on'.



Love songs not having the same power anymore

I used to love listening to love songs when I was younger. I'd catch Mellow Magic on late night Capital radio and listen to endlessly compiled mix tapes that I'd put together on late night car drives. I always seemed to be striving to get the ultimate selection that would sum up everything I looked for in love. Some obscure, some that had a message, some that you could make out to and some that you could just cuddle to. I always wanted the selection to be unique with the ridiculous notion that it would impress someone into seeing how much more special I was than others.

I did eventually attain it, which I still have on tape, called the Love Zone. It had all the songs that meant things to me as I was growing up. Kool and the gang, Air supply, Lionel Richie, some Mariah, Janet Jackson etc and it ranged from the 70's through to the current day. It finished with my big three of How Deep is your love (Bee Gees), Hands to Heaven (Breathe) and The Power of Love (Frankie goes to Hollywood).

I even went through a phase where I would go to bed early just to listen to a three hour late night radio show with Adrian Love on Chiltern FM. The songs and the mood they created had a power over me and helped me believe that one day I would be curled up with someone special listening to them again. I may have felt lonely at the time but they seemed to keep my optimism high that I could find someone. They made me imagine a place where all I would want to do is hold someone while we listened to the music together.

Of course at the time I foolishly believed that this is what relationships would be like. Intimate moments of tender affection while soothing, romantic music played in the background. It's like they helped keep me in the 'game' and maintain a hope that genuine love could be found. This was a time of Tracy, Sally and Vicky and when I think love and affection was what I really craved.

Over time, and as lifestyles changed, I listened to them less and when I think about it so did my faith in finding love diminish. Whereas before listening to them would leave me melancholy but optimistic, now they would depress me and remind me that 10 - 15 years later and nothing had changed. When I think of the dominance that that genre had over my listening habits it's amazing how they have almost been completely removed. Now it's rock, pop or dance with a nod to soundtracks or classical when feeling low.

I dug out 'Hands to heaven' while I composed this entry and listening to it again has left me calm but hollow. Maybe this is just indicative of the hopefulness of youth being replaced by the wearying cynicism of maturing age and thus something that we all share. 

 

My first wank

I guess all males have their ‘first’ story at some point so here is mine. I remember from about the age of 13-14 beginning to get erections but not knowing what to do about them. Rolling on the bed to put pressure on it was a pleasurable experience and I had experimented with rolling the skin up and down but with little effect I gathered that there must be a bit more to it.

I plucked up the courage to discuss it with one of my mates. You always had different mates who fulfilled different roles when younger and he was the one I went to when wanting to talk about girls and sex. He told me how I needed to keep rolling it up and down until I wouldn’t need to anymore. He didn’t really explain what exactly would happen but said that I would apparently know when it had.

I remember that night laying on my bed and as instructed, started to play with it. Nothing much seemed to happen at first but I tried different grips and strengths until I could feel a change inside me. Like a fluorescent light attempting to fire up or a PC turning on, I could feel different parts of my body beginning to act strangely. The backs of my knees began to go tingly and sweaty, there was a real, noticeable warmth in my face and cheeks and it felt like someone had turned the washing machine of my lower stomach onto a slow spin.

There was excitement but there was also trepidation. My body was coming online in places I didn’t know it could and I could feel things building to an unknown and unstoppable conclusion. My body had never been in a place where it was controlling me, but now it was. My breath quickened, my mouth went dry and my body and muscles tightened like an over wound elastic band. Suddenly I was coming in a hot, disorientating, shuddering climax and from being tense with every muscle straining I felt I’d been gently dropped into a bath of warm custard.

I was truly blown away, my mind was racing and I couldn’t believe it. I had just discovered something wonderful, a way of receiving amazing pleasure that my body had had within me yet I’d not known about. I was charged, I was amazed and I had to share the experience with someone, anyone.

The molten lava ‘discharge’ had splashed across my chest and shoulder yet I seemed oblivious to it or simply forgot it as I pulled on some underwear and raced into my mum. She was lying in bed, reading a book and I burst in to say “Mum, I’ve just come”. It sounds ridiculous, and maybe even sick now, but I was incredulous with what had happened. I’d found the nirvana of self pleasure and more than any other day or event in my life I knew from this day forward that I would be different. I was now a wanker!

To her credit she handled it very well. She closed her book, looked at me and said

“well thank you for telling me that”.

“I can’t believe it” I said “I just had to tell someone, goodnight”

God or whatever, had given me this gift to give myself pleasure that didn’t hurt anyone or cost anything. How could that be, where was the penalty, what was the catch?

The catch was that you had to wait a couple of hours before you could do it again, and in the early days I certainly tested that. The penalty was that for weeks, months and even a couple of years, I would always feel dirty and ashamed after having a wank.

It was great and a purely natural thing to do but it didn’t sit with my imaginings that I was this wonderful example of innocence, longing for true love. I wanted to be a romantic, I wanted to find the special girl, I wanted to believe in making sweet love only when married to a beautiful wife but in reality I was nothing more than a horny teenage male desperate for my next wank.

 

Husbands/wives saying "I don't understand him/her"

Is the above statement not an indication of the amount of people who marry for the wrong reasons.

I know I have this fairytale idea of romance and partnership but I would want to understand completely my future wife. I'm not talking matching jumpers or anything but she would be the most important thing to me, the person I'd decided to spend my life with, and hence I'd want to understand and know her passions and interests just as I'd want her to do to me.

She might be obsessed by shoes, shopping and a TV series and me by movies, games and spaghetti bolognaise but I'd want to understand those passions and respect the pleasure they brought her because I'd love her. I'd want to know what makes her happy. I'm not saying I'd want to take them over and I understand the importance of people still doing their own things but I wouldn't want to talk dismissively and disinterested in the things that were important to them.

I'm sure many will laugh and say that I'm unrealistic and naive but if we are believing in the wonder of marriage and that this is someone you have chosen from the whole world to share the rest of your life with, is it that crazy?

I can't stand it when husbands and wives speak with contempt and derision about the things that interest their partners. If the things they do or like doing open them to ridicule from the one person who is supposed to be their greatest champion, then at least have the courage to admit that they aren't who you want anymore and finish it. Either way, the more you slate them for their differences, the more foolish you look for staying with them.

 

Wearing socks whilst having sex

And realising that you've still got them on as you stripped each other in the throes of passion and then trying to surreptitiously remove them with your toes.

 

Do I only want, what I know I can't have

I know this statement can apply to a whole host of things but when it comes down to women I'm beginning to believe that it is most definately true.

I think for so many years I've had an idea of what it is I want or seen girls that I want but can't have that I've just become used to it. If someone expresses an interest in me romantically then I'm just not interested. It's like I dismiss what they say they are feeling for me. I can't help but think that they're either mistaken, taking pity on me or just plain winding me up. I find it hard to picture or visualise someone having feelings for me. The idea that someone wants me purely for me, for who I am, for my OCD bullshit, my opinionated rambles, my insecurities seems alien to me.

I'm the one who thinks about things, I'm the one who has feelings from afar and hence I can't compute someone being the same with me being the centre of their attention. When I look back on the few that have felt that way they don't seem real. Each one has a reason to be dismissed. They were playing me, they had no one else, they weren't really that into me.

Some say I'm too fussy. That I compare everyone to this image I have in my mind. I don't feel that I do. I might compare what I want from a relationship but who knows what exactly will attract you. You either feel it or you don't. Being fussy would imply that I have choice and options. Despite my online presence and always being on the lookout I still don't have the exposure or get enough attention to be able to pick and choose. When I think about it the last date I had was nearly 2 1/2 years ago.

In summary I think I've been conditioned for so long to not getting anyone, that it's the ones that will continue this trend that I seem to think about.

 

Weddings

I've just seen a programme on TV about weddings and it reminded me of my thoughts on them.

On the shallow side I wish I went along to more of them because you know that every woman there will probably look the best she will look for that entire year. They've bought the outfit and planned the outfit almost as much as the bride. It's like going to an Essex nightclub where every woman will have made that extra effort to look tip top. Of course there is also the free food, drink, dancing and numerous people watching opportunities. Yes, I've seen the Wedding Crashers.

On the deeper side I really do believe in the beauty and wonder of marriage despite, or maybe even because I've seen two marriages fall apart in front of me. Rarely do it see it though. The day and the event seem to gather such a momentum of it's own that the reason for it happening gets forgotten. Tempers get frayed, patience wears thin, pressure builds and looking at the marrying couple you would hardly think they were in love.

With co-ordinated balloons, family politics and cold food to contend with the notion of adoration and commitment seems overlooked. Someone said to me that a wedding is just for the bride or the bride's family to display their wealth or to live out the marriage they have always wanted for their daughter. I know I have an unrealistic fairytale conception of marriage but I think alarm bells would be ringing loudly if my future wife was more concerned with appeasing her parents than listening to my thoughts.

I've been to very few weddings where the two protagonists are capable of displaying the true meanings of their marriage. Affection, love and pride.

 

Buying my first 'adult' magazine

I'll never forget this one. I'd been a couple of times to my local newsagents to buy some milk or a paper and furtively glanced up to the top shelf where all the adult magazines beckoned me with the promise of female flesh. A couple of times I'd even plucked up the courage to grab one to have a quick look before jamming it back onto the shelf and hurrying out.

One of my mates said he was aware of a newsagents in our local town that had a great selection of magazines and didn't give the punters any grief or uncomfortable questions on age etc. I knew the kind of things that interested/aroused me so I didn't just want to grab the first thing I could get my grubby mitts on. Even then I didn't want to waste £3 - 4 on something that would be unsatisfactory. Anyway we made our way down to the newsagents and it did indeed have a long shelf full of a wide range of porn mags.

We started off on the middle shelf casually looking at golfing or power boating magazines whilst we surveyed the scene for any customers that might come in and uncomfortably surprise us. Nothing worse than to be caught by a young female coming into the shop while we flicked through the graphic pages of a jazz mag.

The coast seemed clear and we respectively reached up to grab a copy of whatever it was that had caught our eye. No sooner had I started flicking through the pages, cheeks ablaze with a mixture of nerves, embarrassment and excitement when I heard the tinkle of the bell above the shop door opening.

In utter blind panic I fumbled to return the magazine to the top shelf but the magazines were all layered on top of one another as they stretched along the top shelf and I struggled to slide it back into place. In my haste I must have caught it as I pulled my hand away and managed to start this tidal wave of tumbling, cascading magazines that ran along the entire top shelf like some kind of horrific, slow motion domino rally. From quickly and discreetly attempting to return the magazine to the top shelf, I'd now managed to completely clear it of publications, resulting in my friend and I being surrounded by half open porn mags all over the floor. My embarrassment did all it could to make me spontaneously combust through my skull but I had to simply mumble out a barrage of apologies as the female Asian shop assistant hurried over to assist us in putting them back.

We stuffed them back as best we could before grabbing one each, slapping some money down on the counter and bolting for the door. It made for some nervous hilarity as we traveled home but I do remember that after all of that I was distinctly unimpressed with the magazine that I had grabbed.

 

Being a slave to your phone when expecting a text from a girl

Send a text to someone, especially a member of the opposite sex and you can't help but become a slave to checking your phone for a reply.

You don't expect one straight away and hence play it nonchalent. After half an hour or so you look at the phone bemused, then check to make sure that you did actually send it. With still no reply you end up leaving it another room but find yourself making spurious reasons to enter the room to glance at the screen to see if you have received anything. In the end you resort to switching the phone off because really you couldn't care less if they send one to you and it will also perform a quick signal check.

When they do eventually respond you have the dilemma of how long you should wait before responding. Do it quickly and you might be able to strike up a nice run of texts though you might across as too eager. Leave it too long to play things cool and they could get bored and not respond for days!

 

People saying they are sex addicts

Don't you wish you could just get enough to determine whether or not you can't get enough.

 

Can love and romance still be as exciting when you are older

As you get older you become more experienced and possibly more cynical, depending on how good your experiences were. Lives have become more ordered and predictable. Decisions involving your future are more considered and future security is always taken into account. With this in mind is it then still possible to have that impulsive, crazy, pulse pounding love. 

Organising a relationship when you get older seems to involve so much more managing and work. You've got the first meet, then the careful dance of texts and emails, the first proper date, the attempts to impress, the subsequent dates and the ever looming when we will do it, is this the one, should I introduce to friends and family questions.

When younger you had less worries and were ready to lose your composure to the vagaries of wild romance. You had the freedom to react to the crazy, addictive spontaneity of the situation and allow yourself to become fully consumed by it. Does though the controlling, cautious, one step at a time mentality of the older generation (myself included) kill the notion of heady romance. As we become more sensible and mature does it become a passion killing carefully orchestrated selection process rather than the unpredictable, rollercoaster that it is meant to be.

I long for another taste of that kind of romance but now that I'm part of this age group am I consigned to the sparkle free tedium. Bearing in mind my selection can only be from this sector am I governed and disciplined by their ways as failure to comply paints me as an immature, mid life crisis suffering fool incapable of adhering to the rules and expectations of his unwanted age group.

 

Can you hope for anyone special if you don't feel you have anything special to offer

I like having fun and I enjoy the flexibility and independance of being single but I would like to have some special. Can I really though hope to find someone special if I haven't got anything special to offer in return. Everyone is looking for what they can get out of a relationship, whether being in the company of beauty or greatness so am I deluding myself in wanting someone nice when I'm not sure if I have anything worth wanting.

I'm not moping or being depressed, simply trying to be realistic. Women are attracted (and quite rightly so) to good looks, wealth, position, ambition and achievements. They look for indicators of this such as a good body, well dressed, a nice car, important job, nice house, good social circle, well travelled etc and it's right that they do this. It's only natural and it makes sense to look for a good mate.

When you have little or few of these indicators what realistically should you hope for. Is the notion that having a fun personality, a quick wit and a youthful enthusiasm enough to get a good girl truly ridiculous. Have I blown it. Should I consign myself to the heap. Can I really look at great girls and think that they aren't going to be disappointed when they look behind the facade.

I guess if you win the lottery you would know that you have something tangible to offer. Ok there is the danger that they may only want you for your money but at least from a confidence point of view you are aware of something that you have to attract girls. Maybe this leads to the bigger question that in reality I don't want to let anyone close in case they realise what a disappointment I am. Maybe it's the fear of seeing this disappointment in a girl and having to embrace the realisation of it that ultimately worries me more.

It sounds like I'm a bitter, depressed cynic and maybe thats what I'm becoming but I've not always been like this. I've seen two marriages split up in front of my eyes and I don't blame anyone for this. It's life and I think I was maybe better armed at a younger age with the knowledge that relationships don't always work. Despite this though I was always very optimistic when younger. I used to contemplate finding someone special but I didn't consider that it might never happen. People would say don't worry it will come, when you look you don't find and I was happy to move along thinking when it happens, it will happen. Somewhere along the way cynicism has crept in and is beginning to take over.

People suggest internet dating and agencies and I know that they work for some but not for me. Although I have more reason to doubt the existence of romance when you get older I still want to taste it. I don't want to force its appearance and I don't want it to be a tick box selection. I've surfed the internet for a good three-four years and it's very hard to make friends. People don't read you right, no one expects honesty and thus take you the wrong way when you are sincere. Everyone seems to have an internet persona that masks the real them and hence when you cast the honesty rod you get no bites. Be more guarded, be more protective some say but I don't know how to be and am unsure if I want to be.

So whats the answer then. Keep plodding along I guess until I either attain something that makes me special or that one in a million girl takes a peek behind the curtain and actually likes what she sees.

 

What's worse - Post or pre cum

Pre is a real pain. Get aroused and you can embarrassingly discolour and stain a pair of light trousers giving a visible sign to your wannabe lover that you are a dribbling sex maniac, you have to contend with it running down your leg and the unease of wet stickiness as you walk and if a girl does get to yank down your boxers she will be greeted by a virtual bowl of angel hair pasta as lines of pre cum tangle around your packet.

Post is no better. No matter how much you clean, squeeze and almost milk that udder you can guarantee that one blob of it will have painfully super-glued your helmet to your boxers requiring potentially embarrassing but immediately necessary correction, mis directed piss on your next toilet visit and finally how that even if you were wearing dust free, white rubber pants your tip would still manage to find enough black fluff to make a scarf.

 

Women are from Mars and men are from Venus

I've not read the book or had the theory explained to me but I can certainly see the concept of women being from another planet.

On nights when I'm out in a club or pub or if I'm driving through town and spy a selection of honeys they might as well be on another planet. For it seems they are just a million miles away from me.  Maybe it's a comment of my piss poor levels of interaction but it really is like I can see them, observe what they do, take note of how they act etc but I might as well be looking through the Hubble telescope because if I dare to consider entering their world I'm reminded that I'm not from it and that there are light years of empty void space between us.

It just seems that they are laughing, dancing, having fun, having meals, fooling around with other guys but totally oblivious to my existence or appearance. Almost like I'm an alien visitor fitted with a cloaking device that allows me to see them and move among them but just not be visible to them.

 

Is it possible to find real love?

I was listening to the music from The Green Mile recently which always puts me in a thoughtful mood and I wondered if it is ever possible to find genuine, real love.

We live in such a shallow, insincere world.  People are so quick to make judgements, so willing to pigeon hole people and go on first impressions or the surface shine that you wonder if we can ever take the time to look deeper and actually connect with another person.  People are so guarded, so reserved, so fearful of giving the wrong signal or coming on too strong that the barriers come up.  Maybe this is in part to protect or shield against those who love or live for the soap opera drama and histrionics that they assume relationships should involve.

Me, I just want to know whether I will ever be able to find 'The Green Mile love'. By this I mean either being able to watch the film with someone special that they understand the deeper meanings behind the film, feel it touch them in the same way I do and also feel the same emotional highs and lows when I do. Or be the woman who I am lying on the bed with, spooned behind her as the music from the film plays softly on the hi-fi. If I can feel the intimacy and tenderness as our bodies press against each other, as I stroke the hair away from her face, feel the warmth of her neck on my lips as the simple chords of the piano wash over us.

I know I dream of the impossible and the unobtainable for as I grow older the dream of this fades but it is a sweet dream that warms me in the lonely cold of the night and I will hold onto it for as long as I can.

 

We are trying for a child

I've always loved this statement. 

It's the only way that a couple can ever openly admit to parents, grandparents, friends and other relatives that they are banging each other senseless every single night, in every single room.

It's almost like it legitimises their desire to have sex. Any other time and it won't be discussed in open conversation but drop the 'we are trying for a child' bomb and it can be debated over the dinner table with un-flustered ease.

"How's the trying for a child coming on?"

"Very well thanks. It's tiring but we both had a damn good session last night". Parents it seems are even happy to discuss their siblings sexual habits with neighbours when used in this context.

"Oh yes, John and Jenny are doing very well. They are trying for a child you know".

 

Marriage.  Is it all it's cracked up to be?

Whenever I listen to people who are married talking about marriage all I hear is what hard work it is.  How it's all about compromise, working together and learning to give and take. I rarely hear from those actually doing it how great it is and I rarely see real affection between married couples.

Many seem to constantly bicker, pursue their own hobbies with scant regard and even disdain for the other person's interests and always want to start the first verbal assault or have the last word. I've seen marriages with cracks, chasms, partners staying together just for the kids and complete break ups.  The ones that seem to last only do so when a comfort zone is found that means they live two separate lives under the same roof.

Yes there are exceptions and I do know of these but there aren't many. I know I have a fairy tale view of what I look for in a wife and what I hope my marriage would be, but surely thats the best way to look at it. When, and if, it happens I want it to be a magical experience, not a carefully brokered business amalgamation. 

Some have said that I'm too fussy and will die a lonely man but I'd rather be alone than be part of some stale, loveless, constantly 'working at' sham of a relationship.

 

Being single and stuff

Being single is fun and I’d never want to feel trapped or confined in an unhappy relationship. The lack of commitment, freedom to do as you please, the liberty and independence granted to let you pursue your own dreams, aspirations or interests has many benefits but sometimes, I think, the bravado can be a bluff to hide loneliness.

There is many a time in my quieter, more thoughtful moments that I wouldn’t trade my independence for some companionship. Someone to share quiet, intimate moments with. The chance to watch a good film snuggled up on the sofa with someone special, the desire to alleviate a bad day by sharing your evening with a loved one, the opportunity to wake in the middle of the night and roll over for a tender cuddle, to be able to exchange a reassuring/knowing glance across a crowded room or simply to feel the squeeze of your hand before doing something brave.

When I was younger, I dreamt of these things and consoled myself that there was plenty of time, I’d listen to love songs optimistic that one day I’d share them with another and strive in exercise and achievements to make myself a better catch. But as you get older and chances pass you by you notice that opportunities become less and you realise that time is running out. Favourite love songs now become painful reminders of the love I have not yet found and the fire to keep you looking attractive begins to fade as you question whether this is the very thing that is holding you back and ultimately something over which you have little control.

Any fleeting possibilities that come along are considered but ultimately do not match the one heart crushing emotion that I’ve always sought and a fear grows that you’ll either spend a life alone or be forced to accept a ‘make do’ relationship that would be a sham to both you and her. A feeling that you’d accepted second best because you felt you couldn’t do any better.

I don’t know, the independence is a great pay off of being single and when you are socially busy, having fun or being entertained then it's fantastic. It's just those quiet moments that it bites and you miss not having someone to share things with.

Finding someone can be so much harder as you get older. At a slightly older age people of your own age seem to only want relationships and younger people dismiss you as they seem to think you only want relationships. Nights out are restricted to the two of you and sometimes maybe three, the dinner parties that everyone else seems to have you don’t get invited to and if working for a small company your social circle is restricted. The most frustrating thing is that it seems when I was younger there were more opportunities yet I didn’t have the confidence or experience to deal with them. Now when I’m a little more comfortable with myself and a little more confident that I could keep someone amused for a couple of hours the horizon is as dry as an Ethiopians soup bowl.

There is no justice, no fairness and no patience being rewarded. You can’t find someone special by being a nice guy. Be too honest and sincere and you scare them off, be too guarded and mysterious and they get bored, be too friendly and supportive and they come to ‘love you as a friend’. Life is unfair and you either turn into a bastard and something you are not to attract the girls or continue fumbling along in the darkness dreaming and waiting of finding someone special.

I guess I’ll just keep subscribing to the 'you can't hurry love', 'be patient for the right one is out there' and 'look and you don't find' theories but I must confess that my cynicism is beginning to take over my optimism.  

 

Idiots, relatives and friends who say 'Go get a girlfriend'

Yeah like they are as easy to pick up as a pint of milk and a paper. Or that for all this time I hadn’t realised that simply making a conscious decision to ‘go get one’ would offer up limitless possibilities.  

 

The whole ‘when should we sleep together, will he respect me thing’

I don’t go on masses of dates but I’ve never understood the whole after two dates we kiss and after four/five we shag kind of thing. Doesn't creating boxes and zones for how to react and timetables for what and when to do it, take away the frisson of excitement and fluidity from a relationship/affair/interaction?

I used to be a hold out merchant and think people would respect me for it but ultimately what’s the point. I respect who I am and I still respect a girl if she sleeps with me early on. I wouldn’t just sleep with anyone but if I did fancy a girl then frankly I'd be chuffed that she found me sexy enough that she would want to sleep with me.

I may sound like a typical bloke but why does the sex part need to have so much weight and gravitas behind it. Can't two people just enjoy each others bodies without thinking 'right we have to step up to another level of commitment now that we've done this.'

I know people say ‘oh this one could be special and possible partner material’ but shag material is defined by what you are like in bed and girlfriend material is defined by what you are like in the head and neither are really determined by how soon you slept with that person. If I really liked a girl as a person then that would be the attraction to want them as a girlfriend.

 

The inability to find any decent erotic porn

In the old days (60'/70's) or at least with soft-core you got a little introduction to the setting, the situation and the characters. You had a chance to actually look at the female star when she still had her clothes on so that the anticipation of seeing her undressed could build. The scenes had a semblance of meaning behind them or at least a touch of realism that maybe that scene could happen to you.

Now though it seems to be nothing but immediate undressing, fake grunting, fake tits, continual money shots and looks to the camera, which I've never understood. If I'm watching porn I'm a voyeur, an observer and I don't want my presence or involvement to be acknowledged.

With the growth of Mike's apartment, Milf hunter, the Ben Dover series etc everything is done so cheaply. It's all shaky cam, chatting up a girl in a park and an audition like shag in a dirty bedroom. I'm not saying there should be Shakespearean scripts, plush sets, classical soundtracks and exquisite costumes. I just want some natural, arousing excitement.

Guys can pretty much bash their meat to QVC if they concentrated hard enough so what's the point in paying to be aroused if all you get is one unerotic, unemotional, biology class style scene after another. Put the sexiness back into porn and make it that by the time I decide to 'relieve' myself that it is genuinely hard from the scenes I'm watching rather than my over-active imagination. 

 

People saying you shouldn’t go near a married or coupled up man/woman

I love it when people say you shouldn't cheat with married or partnered people - why not? I'd personally never do it because I wouldn't want the responsibility of thinking did they leave that person for me or am I just an escape route but why should the single person always get the blame.

You don't know the reasons why someone is not happy with their partner. It isn't your responsibility to maintain their relationship or handle the feelings of the other partner. If you are single then the only person who should be feeling guilty is the person committing the infidelity. Harsh maybe but the soap opera histrionics of the so called 'wronged' partner are normally hiding the fact that they caused the other one to look elsewhere or they were just too goddam weak to resolve it.  

 

Holding a baby

I'm not going all mushy and to be honest I've never had a great deal of time for other people's babies. They normally get shoved into your hand and either immediately starts screaming, are just plain annoying or you don't then see them again for another 5 years.

I've got a really good couple of friends who have recently had a baby and because of the distance when I go there I end up staying for a night or two. Because of this I manage to spend a little more time in the company of the little 'un and she in turn has a bit of time to learn to recognize my face for the duration of my stay.

I was over this weekend and I gotta say that she is (and I assume other babies could well be over time) enchanting. It sounds soppy but holding her while she fell asleep, yet still occasionally opened her eyes to make sure you were still there, was calming and humbling. In a way it makes you feel (well me anyway) so much better about yourself. That somehow maybe the baby can see your goodness and that her feeling safe enough to fall asleep in your arms is confirmation that maybe you aren’t that bad.

I don't know, maybe it's their innocence or dependence on you for their protection but I feel almost a better, calmer person once I've spent time in her company.

All the things are not in place for me to feel I'm ready to offer a child a safe, comfortable upbringing and I've yet to find someone that I'd want to have and raise a child with yet but there is something special, and pleasantly surprising, about holding a baby.  

 

Personality versus looks

Looks will always outweigh personality because that is the thing people will see first. You may have the best personality and be the funniest guy around but if you ain't good looking no one will give you the time of day to show how entertaining you can be.

I mean let’s face it, you don't go into a club/bar etc, look for the ugliest, fattest girl and think wow I bet she has the greatest personality, I'll go and chat to her. There has to be some physical attraction to make you instigate the initial contact.

I think I'm quite good company. When women get talking to me they tell me I'm crazy and they've never met anyone like me and without being arrogant I think I am fun to be with. I know how to have a laugh at myself, dance, drink, flirt, etc but I rarely get the chance to prove this to a girl. I don't expect them to approach me but I won't steam in until I get the eyes, look or smile. I rarely seem to get this so assume that how I look must be a factor.

The whole getting to know them as friends doesn't work either because then when you make your move they say they don't want to lose you as a friend, basically meaning that they don't find you attractive.

Yes, the personality will help you maintain a relationship but it won't help you get one started. For that, and to get their initial attraction to see your stellar personality, you need the looks to hook them in. You can't always rely on the fantasy of being stranded on a desert island together (or locked in a supermarket which was a favourite of mine when younger) to make them get to know how wonderful you actually are.  

 

Being told you’re too fussy and are looking for the impossible

Yes I know I’d like to find someone but why shouldn’t I be fussy. I mean if I don’t fancy someone or they are just ok should I really say to myself ‘well they are not quite right but I’m never going to get any better so they will make do’. It would break my heart if someone did that to me, that I was simply acceptable and nothing more, and thus I would never do it to someone else. Even worse though in accepting second best is that without realizing it you would always be looking for the BBD (bigger, better, deal).

Maybe I’m crazy for hoping to find that spark of excitement, that rush of affection, intimacy and connection but better that than dreaming of meeting someone who is plain average and we just ‘get along’. If I ever find the one and god forbid marry them then on the day I want to know that I could and would never be able to find better. Not in some kind of ridiculous her being a like a movie actress but that I could not find someone who to me would be prettier, funnier or be so connected to me.  

 

Kissably Close 

I’ve not had many really romantic moments or times where things seemed to happen just right.  Some girls I've tried hard with for nothing and some that I've got quite close to almost dating. There was one girl that I had a couple of nice moments with and did come kissably close to.  Her name was Tracey (I won't give her surname) and she was very special.

It was about 12/13 years ago; I was working in the purchase ledger department of a firm of accountants at the time in the city and must have been about 22/23. I’d not had a girlfriend and was probably an over earnest geek (yeah like having your own website doesn’t make you one!). While chasing invoices etc I got chatting to Tracey who worked for a company in Croydon. We seemed to get on really well on the phone and I really looked forward to talking to her although I did view making calls to her with nervous anticipation. I remember she sent me a light hearted questionnaire and I was so made up that somebody actually wanted to take an interest in me. She asked to see some photographs so I sent her seven. Sounds crazy but I wanted her to get a full indication of what I was like and also maybe make her laugh thus some of them were of me as a kid. I remember in the letter saying that I understood if she didn’t find me attractive but if nothing else that she could return the photos. I heard nothing for two long weeks and thought with quiet resignation my looks strike again. And then she called. God I’ve never been happier, maybe she was bored but the knowledge that my appearance hadn’t put her off and maybe she was interested in me felt just fantastic. I asked to see her photos and she promised to post them.

She had described what she was like but even so you can never be sure until the photos arrived. They came, she’d sent four, and she was truly beautiful. Long curly brown hair, big eyes, great complexion, nice body and a lovely face. My heart was skipping, maybe life was just and fair, because here was someone I would never have had the courage to talk to had I seen how pretty she was beforehand but now she knew me, had an insight into my personality and maybe I had a chance. I didn’t phone her immediately, thinking maybe she could endure a little of what I had gone through and also because I wanted to tell her what I thought of her in a slightly special way. I got some flowers delivered to her office with the card simply saying ‘you are beautiful’. We called and she seemed pleased and I agreed to take a day off work to go and see her during her lunch break.

Christ I was so nervous. I thought my driving test was bad, with my leg shaking so much I could hardly depress the clutch but this was way different. A gnawing hole growing ever larger in my stomach the closer I got to seeing her and endless debates of what to wear, what to say and what to do. When I met her at her office I was ready to run away if she even looked at me funnily and yet she seemed so calm and confident. I was desperately trying to conceal how big a deal this was for me and keep my feelings under check so I didn’t scare her off but I’m not sure if it worked. Conversation on the phone felt natural but now face to face I was stilted, non flirtatious and lacking sparkle. It almost felt like I was ready for her to say at any moment ‘no I’m sorry, this is ridiculous. I can’t possibly consider a guy who has so obviously been out on a total of two or three dates in his life’. I walked her back to her office and just felt dejected. She was way out of my league and I couldn’t possibly hope to keep someone like that entertained, let alone interested in me.

I called her the following week and we agreed to meet with both her mates and mine at the Venue in New Cross. Apparently she had a boyfriend but it wasn’t going anywhere. The night came and we met in the club. I was racing backwards between her gang and mine desperately trying to get them closer and interacting both so that I could spend some time with her and also so that I could feel good that little old me had arranged a gaggle of girls for my mates to choose from. The night just wasn’t gelling, I couldn’t seem to find any magic with Tracey and the downers were coming in. One of her friends developed a mild asthma attack and I quickly volunteered to take her outside as I was almost glad to get away from the pressure of waiting for something to happen. We went outside and her friend calmed her breathing. It started light raining but I didn’t care and her friend needed the air.

Once she was better and was breathing normally we went back in and to our respective groups. I never forget going up to one of my mates, G, who gave one of the best pieces of advice. There I was pretty much soaked through, hair plastered to my head and he said ‘go to her, go to Tracey right now’. For once I listened and walked straight over. She looked at me and then threw her arms round me. God it felt so good, her curly hair smelt so clean and her body felt so warm pressed against me. I can remember that she was wearing jeans and this white shirt that was slightly frilly and over long in the arms. We started moving to the music but I can’t tell you what was playing. Just holding her, and knowing that she wanted to be held, meant the world to me and I didn’t want the night to end. I don’t know how long it lasted, no where near long enough but eventually the lights came up and I think this is when we kissed. Needless to say with my limited experience I wasn’t a good kisser then but I think muddled through. We moved outside whilst she and her friends waited for a cab and we continued to kiss.

I know this sounds like a normal night for most people ie kissing a member of the opposite sex in a drunken clinch but for me it wasn’t. Never before had I been at a point where somebody I had desired actually fancied me in return and wanted me to hold and kiss them. It was a giddy head trip. She didn’t want to take her arms from around my waist and told me what lovely big lips I had. This was especially poignant as I’d been teased at school, quite unfairly I thought, for being a 'rubber lipped bastard'. Her cab turned up and I waved her and her friends off. Needless to say that I was on cloud 9 for the journey home. The night couldn’t have turned out better and I’d got the girl and she’d wanted me, even if it was just for that night. During the following week I sent her a box of toffee to say what a great time I’d had. It seems a lame gift but I thought it would be something different than flowers or chocolates. A few weeks passed and I got ready to leave my deptartment and move to another. On the last day I got drunk at lunch time and we spoke in the afternoon. I wasn’t expecting anymore, mindful of her boyfriend and was almost ready to say my goodbyes when she asked for my home number which I readily gave. We spoke a few days later and she admitted that she’d split up from her boyfriend and I tentatively asked for a date.

She lived in Upper Norwood, which was about 15 miles away from where I lived in South East London and in my first car, silver triumph acclaim I drove over to collect her. Not knowing Upper Norwood we drove all the way down to Sevenoaks and took a walk around Knowle Park before having a cream tea in the town centre. We seemed to have a really good chat and a nice time and I hoped that I was doing something a little different from everyone else. We drove over to Thurrock and saw Forrest Gump. I’d seen it twice before but she never had and being one of my favourite films I hoped it would be something she would remember. We then drove all the way back home. I pulled up outside and had that dilemma of ‘do I turn the engine off which signals I want something or respect her and keep the engine running which could be misconstrued as wanting to get rid of her’ She thanked me for a lovely time and seemed to lean towards me. I lifted my head to softly kiss her forehead and I’ll never forget her gently holding my chin and pulling it down so she could kiss me on the lips. Even writing it now it gives me goose bumps. Such a delicate, precious moment in time, knowing that even without the effects of alcohol she still wanted to kiss me. I’d have to say that even though this was wasn’t the most passionate kiss, it was certainly the most memorable and tender kiss I’ve ever had. I practically floated home, warmed to my core of having had such a wonderful time in the company of somebody really special.

We talked some more but I don’t know, I think my confidence kept failing me and the more into her I became the more weaker I felt. We agreed to meet again at the Venue and I thought maybe the magic could happen again. Our gangs were chatting again and the two of us talked but something was missing. At one point I saw her chatting to this guy and tried to think nothing more of it. I’ve never liked the idea of people getting jealous and embarrassing themselves over emotion so didn’t think it was my place to say anything. I didn't own her. She came back over and said how he was an old school friend. We had some more drinks and we continued to dance and then she seemed to disappear. I carried on dancing with my mates and trying to enjoy myself but after half an hour my curiosity got the better of me and I had to go and find her. I remember walking down the stairs of the venue and just as I got near to the bottom seeing her with her arms around his neck, lips locked firmly together. I stopped in my tracks, I guess I’d expected it and didn’t blame her. Hadn’t I known that she didn’t feel the same way about me as I did of her? I wanted to turn away but also part of me wanted to drink in the hurt so that I could use it later. With my parents having divorced (haven’t so many others so I’m not trying to elicit sympathy) years earlier I was fine to bottle them all up and not display my pain. I took one last look feeling my heart shrivel like an empty paper bag before returning to my gang. I think we partied for another 20-30 minutes or so and then left. I don’t think I saw her on the way out but if I did I tried to blank her. I don’t think I ever spoke to her again. I sent her a Christmas card that Xmas but nothing else.

I don’t blame her. There is no right and wrong in affairs of the heart and you can only go on what you feel. She did what was right for her and rightly so. I’m not the begging type and don’t want to go in for the soap opera drama to let someone know they have hurt you. What I do remember her for though is the moment in the club and a wonderfully tender kiss. I’d be surprised if she remembers me but for those things I’ll always remember her.

 

Another one that got away

There was one other girl that I really fancied and for this I will quote from my diary that I ran for about a year and was keeping at the time.  I was 20 and it might be interesting to see if my style of writing has changed since then.  I'll just quote what I think are the relevant bits in the diary.  Her name was Sally and I met her on a Friday night after having been out on an after works drink.  The first night was one of the best evenings I have ever had but is a great indicator of screwing up what could have been at least a date with a lovely girl and a further nail in the coffin of my piss poor efforts with girls.  This could be boring for some but may provide some light entertainment for the process of me falling for someone and then sodding it up.

Friday 13th (not always unlucky) March - "As the train weaved home I overheard a number of girls chatting to this PTi instructor from the army. Normally I would be very shy but probably due to the atmosphere in the Minories and alchohol I'd consumed I was cursing my luck at not getting in at the next door.  This bloke got off and they began to look for a new target. They ascertained I was male and then all piled round. I was in fine form, introducing myself, commenting on their perfume, telling them what I'd overheard.  It came up to my stop and Sally the loveliest and whose birthday it was that day asked to try on my coat. I said this was my stop and then said 'sod it, I'll walk back from the next station'  We all disembarked at the next stop, Me, Sally, Jane, Juliet, Jane and Petra, one of the girls mentioned a local club, I ummed and ahhed about it and before I could say anymore they'd all got in a cab.

I began to walk home and had got about half a mile away when I thought 'Hell they were nice, they probably will go to that club and I might aswell go' Thus I turned around and headed back to the club. Bumped into Jane and can't remember who else while going to the cashbase.  She seemed pleased to see me, gave me a nice hug and I thought this could be good.  Went inside and met the others.  Bought drinks for everyone, chatted, found out their life history.  Found myself very attracted to Sally who really is very attractive. Blue eyes, tumbling soft blonde hair, lovely white teeth, smooth skin, a great body, lovely smile, nice personality and due to her doing A'levels in English Lit and something else, very intelligent.

Did a lot of dancing, one memorable bit was dancing with Sally in front of the mirrors.  Sally bought me a drink aswell as giving me a kiss earlier on for a drink I bought for her.  The time flew by and soon it was the slow dance section. Sally started to dance with another man. I was jealous I admit but there again I wouldn't have asked her for a dance anyway as it would have runied the relationship that I think I was creating. The other Jane, the one who looks like Geena Davis, asked what was wrong as I kept muttering I can't understand women and probably looked pretty dejected. I can't remember what I exactly said but I think she asked who I was interested in to which I didn't reply.  The Jane I was talking to then asked if I wanted to dance.  Not wanting to say no and hurt her I agreed. It was nice, letting the music take over, unfortunately one feels very clumsy when trying to move one's feet slowly in a circular motion.  Didn't indulge in any kissing for which I apologised when we came off saying that it wasn't my style. Then Sally came over saying 'why didn't you rescue me..' or something similar '..from that creep'. To this I replied with open mouth and spluttered out 'you're out of my class and league and why didn't you tell me' She did ask me to help her over to the cloak room as her shoes were hurting her. She wore my coat downstairs and I thanked Sally and Jane for a wonderful night and asked them to pass the message onto the others.  I then walked home feeling extremely chuffed.  If I never see them again it's nice to know that I hope they'll think of me as a nice bloke"

Saturday 14th March - " Still find it hard to believe that I gayly chatted away with five lovely girls whom I'd never met before.  Found myself thinking a lot about Sally. Mike said he would so after checking out his new keyboard we mossied down to the club again. I didn't really know what to expect. Jane asked me along but I was worried that the others would be fed up with me. It was silly and childish but I became very jealous when I would see Sally talking to other men and I would think what have they got that I haven't. Chatted to the others, bought them drinks. Asked about Jane's new car, Sally's aching feet and Juliets sore throat.  Gave Sally a birthday card for which I received a pleasant kiss. 

Midway during the evening became a bit depressed and drank probably too much.  I was probably expecting too much, hell I always do. Of course another thing was that tonight there was a hell of a lot more people thus they had more people to chat with. Decided at 12.30 to sod them and dance the night away. Jane then bought me a drink and I got to dance next to the lovely Sally.  It's funny when I try, things fuck up, when I don't the position improves. The only slow song came on at the end. I dithered and none of the girls danced with anyone, but had I gone and asked Sally to dance it would have upset Jane I think. And had she said No they would all know that I fancy Sally, that is if they don't know already. Left after that, said goodbye to Jane, unfortunately didn't see any of the others to say goodbye to them.  My paranoia says this was deliberate on their part. came home and hit the bed while mulling over my lack of attractiveness. I can't help worrying that they are only being nice to me because I've been nice to them"

Sunday 15th March - "Couldn't get Sally out of my head. God she's lovely but out of my class. My jealousy yesterday was stupid, I really must control it. I'll probably go this Friday and just try and stay friends. If I can just talk to Sally, see her smile, dance with her and just let her know and remember me then who knows, feelings may grow.  But then again if I ever did get to date her what could I offer. Could I drive her anywhere. Thurrock I think not"

Monday 16th March - "Seeing everthing today through rose tinted glasses. It's overclouded but I see sun. As usual my over active imagination is building wonderful scenarioes for Sally & I. I can't stop thinking of her and I seem to spend my nights listening to the radio to hear love songs. I know whats going to happen, like so many times before I'm going to build it into some sort of beautiful love thing, and then be devastated when it just all crumbles. I just can't imagine her giving me one moment of thought. I know why I'm doing it though. It's because in this mood I'm happy, I have something to live for and I don't yet have to face the reality of No. Women are wonderful creatures. I love everything about them, every thought, every kind of makeup they put on but they seriously can fuck you up"

Tuesday 17th March - "Became a bit depressed today due to thinking about lack of money in regard to buying a car. Then about which car. Then about the fact that I've got 2 A'levels, am reasonably bright but am a shit-sucking filing clerk and finally that I'm like a lamb to the slaughter with Sally on Friday. I'm not sure what I'm expecting but I know I'm making it out to be some big fateful love thing and that I'm going to be so hurt. But then I think it makes you feel good, go with the flow. Of course then I realise I'm not exactly attractive or have anything to offer whereas Sally is gorgeous, bubbly, kind, polite and lovely and thus is likely to have the attentions of so many boys, of whom she could choose the best, that she wouldn't even give me a second thought. Of course my problem is that to them it's either them being kind or just putting up with me whereas to me it's an opening to that fantasy world I want to live in of wonderful love, of caring and sharing and where people understand, let alone notice my sincere feelings. I keep thinking I'm so great because I respect women and love everything they do but do they know this, No. Are they attracted by this, No. They want men, men who have no respect, no feelings and are only in it for the shag."

Wednesday 18th March - "Listened to M's love tape, brilliant couldn't stop humming the songs and dreaming of gently kissing Sally on the forehead on the dance floor"

Thursday 19th March - "I'll probably go, I must confess to really wanting to see Sally again. Who knows I might even get a dance with my 'so Sally, what will it be? a drink or a dance' line."

Saturday 21st March - "Carla phoned back and said they'd give it a miss. I asked her about her good word to which she replied she'd instructed Jane (Geena Davies) to tell Sally 'That I fancied her'. Very romantic! Now when I go back to T's everyone will know including Sally and the nicer Jane. It's difficult because Jane is very nice and if anything more normal, reliable and probably an excellent candidate for a first relationship. Sally on the other side is more attractive but possibly more unstable. What I'm trying to say is she is more likely to find another man and I am more likely to get hurt."

Tuesday 24th March - "Thinking perhaps it may have been a mistake letting Sally know my feelings especially, as it dawned on me today , the girl telling her  'I fancy her' is her bloody sister.  It's funny but I feel let down by Carla, telling someone you fancy them is not exactly putting in a good word for you. I feel a fool and that I have really fucked things up. If I see her on Friday I'll just have to push to the back of my mind the fact that she knows 'I fancy her' (such an ugly descriptive) and that I know she knows. Also it increases the pressure on me in an area of which I am very uncertain"

Thursday 26th March - "With Friday night fast approaching needless to say whom my thoughts are with. At the beginning of the week I feel fine, thinking things are great and I stand a chance, the closer it gets the more I realise she's out of my class and to get her I should be brash and bold and not care much for her. With my unending devotion I must be pretty boring unlike a man whose attentions she really has to fight for. Of course the pressure from all the mates is there. With G saying 'just come out and say it' and M suggesting I do something before I get more hurt. Needless to say one wonders what tomorrows entry will say. I must also remember the lesson from two Saturdays ago and not get stupidly jealous or depressed when she talks to other men."

Friday 27th March - "M bumped into a work colleague, we drank more cider and the girls arrived, Jane, Carla and Jane. I practically immediately asked Carla where Sally was. Had no money and was revising her mocks came the reply. To which I immediately replied 'is that true or is it because of me?' Carla said no so I asked Jane, her sister to find out more info. She then said 'You've got the hots for my sister' to which I replied ' I'm just interested in her mind'. We danced, I got more drunk, played with their hair and bought them drinks. Jane asked me along to her brothers 16th birthday celebration on Saturday at T's and said Sally would be there. I'll probably go and if Sally isn't there, or her reaction if she is there isn't favourable, then I will have to close that chapter. By now she must be getting feedback from everyone on my feelings towards her and I'll have to see from her reaction on saturday whether to move or not. She is lovely from my memories but how long can I go on longing and allowing my generosity to blow wads of cash. Dating her could be expensive, it would be an incentive to buy a car but I could see myself seriously broke every month."

Saturday 4th April - "Had tea and then spent the next three hours deciding whether or not to go. The girls were going to celebrate Jane's brothers 16th birthday so it was highly likely they might not get in. N & M couldn't make it and thus I was on my own. I shaved, had a bath and even up to 10.15 was un-decided. What tipped it was if I went at least I would know and would never have to think if only I'd gone. Trotted down there, got a pint of cider and waited. Mark S saw me and came over, never have I been so happy to see him. Just having someone to talk to if the girls didn't arrive. Mark's girlfriend told me Paul G had arrived and I wandered over to say hi.

Jane & Jane walked past while I talked to Paul. Naturally they said hello with a hug and I said I'd be over in a minute. I finished with Paul and walked over to the girls, got introduced to Jane's brother and then noticed Sally on the dance floor. I said to her sister Jane 'did I just see Sally on the dance floor' Yes she replied. Again not wanting to hassle her I waited for her to come off and then said hi. She gave me a beaming smile and a hug and we had a quick chat. I told her I'd missed her and said I was sorry to hear about her driving test. Also said hi to Juliet and Carla and then proceeded to get them all a drink. Handed everyone their drinks including Sally who was chatting to some bloke and after downing mine hit the dance floor. While there thought well I've seen her, there was no great ceremony, this will be the last chapter and I'll just dance the night away. Came off to get a drink later on and met Paul at the bar who got me one. Turned round to see Sally who I started chatting about her mocks etc. She apologised for her lack of makeup to which I replied you don't need it and we moved onto why she hadn't been down here for the last of couple of weekends. I got her a drink while she said it was down to lack of money. I replied don't worry I'll pay for you to get in, it would be worth it. She then said well give us your phone number and when I'm a bit short I can give you a call and you can pay for me to get in. Naturally I gave it to her and when she wandered off gave a big smile to myself and felt chuffed. 

Moved to the dance floor with Paul, whom I had introduced to Sally and began to dance when on it. Asked Paul what he thought of her 'A1' was his reply. Carried on dancing when I saw Sally making her way through the crowd. Every man she passed seemed to grab her and dance with her such is her attraction. She eventually reached me, flung her arms around me and her body right up close and said something like 'thank god you're here'. Up to and including this were the best bits then things began to go downhill.  A slowish reggae type song (buffalo soldier I think) came on and she came up close. I didn't know whether we were supposed to move togther or in opposite directions. She asked which way? I said I don't know and she moved away. I didn't want to be always following her thus I let Sally slowly drift off while dancing. Well she's her own person, she can go where she wants without me endlessly in tow. I don't own her. Unfortunately though she drifted off towards the company of Paul M and Darren N and co.

The fast dancing returned and I moved towards her , guarding my handkerchief in my top pocket as Paul M seemed intent on pulling it out. Sally moved her shoulder up against me in time with the music but as usual I wasn't in time and thus it didn't work.  Carried on dancing alone until the slow ones came on. Crazy for you by Madonna was playing and I left the dance floor looking for Sally. I spotted her talking to PM and DN and thought fuck, is she talking to them for a reason ie wanting a dance. If not have I the courage to walk over and interrupt them and take her away, assuming she says yes. But then what would the other two think or more importantly do. Had she been alone or talking to the girls  it would have been different but how do I know that she isn't talking to a certain guy when the slow ones come on for a certain reason.  Needless to say DN took her on the dance floor minutes later and with all the girls on the dance floor I thought it time to do the off. I should have stayed and thanked Jane for asking me along, that was bad manners but it would have hurt too much seeing DN and Sally walk off the dance floor together.

It's funny before I went to T's I began to think I could accept no more Sally but seeing her again, for the time being anyway has got everything flowing again. I suppose it's wrong but I need her to come to me so that I'm sure thats what she wants. I see her put on so many happy faces with other men and then come over to me and go 'oh my god' that I'm worried that it would be just a show for me if I was doing the pushing. I realise that it probably needs a little pushing and that I should be doing it but my lack of self confidence keeps saying 'she's out of your league, you're nice but so innocent you wouldn't know the signs if she painted them on a sign and held them in front of you. Walked home very slowly, very down and very tired. Well the ball's in her court. She asked for my phone number, if she wants me she can just call me. Whether she wants me or my money at this stage it doesn't matter to me. I don't know by next Friday I may be dying to go there again but it's not so good when she's not there. No matter how bad I feel afterwards when she is there in T's it is always exciting. Perhaps I might give them a couple of weeks without me. Oh well there you are. You decide whether it was a good night or not. I will admit I did enjoy myself and I'm glad I went but well I don't know. She's got my phone number it's probably been lost or thrown away but you dont' know she might have kept it. We will have to see won't we."

Sunday 5th April - "You see some times I'll think I'm doing really well and Sally likes me but then I think well perhaps she's like that with every man.  Perhaps if she rings me I'll know I must be doing something right. Perhaps next weekend I'll go home after the night at Coates and give the likely venue T's a miss. Then if Sally doesn't call on Saturday I'll hit T's on Good Friday. Of course I say that now but will I be able to say No on friday night. Perhaps it's all just a hopeless crush but I'm hoping beyond hope that she's noticing that I'm a different kind of bloke and maybe thus a bit special."

Monday 6th April - "Realised that I'd been a complete wanker on saturday night and had not done well. Ok she has my phone number but the possibility that she might phone me is all fantasy and I must admit it. I should have waited after the slow dance, seen her reaction when she came off the dance floor and politely said good night and don't forget to call.  The way I've done it she could well be put out by my inpoliteness and thus not bother."

Tuesday 7th April - "Told mum about saturday night and prepared her on what to say if Sally phoned on Friday which is a waste of time because deep down I know she won't. Of course another reason why one is hesitant to make a move is because it seems she regards me as like a safe bloke. Like on the first night 'why didn't you rescue me' and on saturday with 'thank god you're here' She might think I'm pretty nice because I'm not only interested in getting in her knickers. Thus when I make a move this image is destroyed. But if I do it with feeling & consideration this may help. I've decided that since I screwed up on saturday if I get the chance agai