Tuesday, 29 March 2011

Panic not.

Rebound.

The word hangs around a break-up like fox shit on my Labradors. Everyone expects you to have a rebound, and any subsequent pair-up following the demise of your last relationship is heralded to be one.

The break up seems ages ago, and only a check of a calendar reminds me that it's not even been two months since those three little words (the wrong ones) were thrown across a dark bedroom, and not even a month that I've been free of the flat. While others might have found this ample time to scour a bar and find a new beau, for me, filling the void left by my Bastard Ex hasn't even been on the radar.

In fact, there are blokes in London who will probably have my death stare etched on their faces, given how strongly I've thrown back their advances.

Then I start accepting an invitation to a boy's house. A boy who initiated the first tentative flirty contact I've had in a good few months. Contact that was both comforting and uncomfortable all at once. Contact that made me think "phew, I'm not a hideous monster" while at the time time being a bit awkward, a bit "oh, hello. I don't really know you, and your head is on my lap."

No one needs to tell me to be careful. My mind did - does - that for me. It goes "shit the bed, I hope he doesn't bloody kiss me", not because I don't find him attractive, intelligent and interesting, but because it's only been two months since the last attractive, intelligent and interesting bloke shattered my view on things. You say just enjoy it. I say right now, I'm not looking for a relationship - rebound, fling, whatever - to enjoy.

The problem is that accepting mid-week cinema dates tends to give the impression otherwise.

And that's probably something I need to work on.

8 comments:

modelofamodernmajorgeneral said...

:D

and in other shock news, my lab likes to eat fox shit. Which is disgusting...

Perakath said...

How old is he? :)

Please Don't Eat With Your Mouth Open said...

modelofa - I think it's in the genes. Our blonde lab adores the smelly shit. Literally.

Perakath - Older than the last one.

;)

Ellie said...

Our dog looks for shit she can roll in especially the days after her monthly bath. Little shit smelling tart. I love dogs.

Brennig said...

Sometimes rolling in shit is therapeutic. That's what my Dal says anyway.

London-Lass said...

"Sitting in the back row of the movies on a Wednesday night with you ... "

A cinema date is very innocent anyway -- my advice would be watch film, say thanks and goodbye and then scarper. Always worked for me.

Please Don't Eat With Your Mouth Open said...

Ellie - I love dogs. The stinky little rascals.

Brennig - A great metaphor for life.

London lass - I tried that tactic. Took the early option, and now it's cinema and dinner afterwards. Woops.

theperpetualspiral said...

Both of my hounds love fresh fox shit. Dirty dogs indeed.

What film are you going to see then?

 

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