Part II: Matchmaker Have You Made Me A Match?
Part III: Find Me A Find, Catch Me A Catch.
Part IV: One Message Received.
Part V: Steak Night.
Part VI: First Base.
Part VII: For One Night Alone, Brand New.
The story continues…
Lucky date seven was soon approaching; the one where I planned to stop counting. For just over three weeks we’d been wrapped up in each other, using compulsive obsessive lust as the only winter coat that we needed. It’s funny how you don’t feel the cold when you’re laughing.
After twenty two days through February and March, I began questioning how many dates make a boyfriend. Well, I decided the moment I first met him that for me this (whatever ‘this’ was) had become exclusive. Yet through several steaks, and cinema ventures, that talk had never cropped up.
For a moment, I hesitated to consider that the fact of the matter still remained…I hadn’t actually asked him is he was soloooo single, or if he was the type of single that was *ahem*….’still sowing thy seed’ and still looking.
So what if I wasn’t the only one he was courting? I’d met him online on a dating website, but that didn’t really mean anything. Perhaps he just enjoyed going out on dates - meeting new people, eating posh nosh, flirting and frolicking with girls. Perhaps he enjoyed it so much that maybe he did it quite often! …Oh bloody hell, I knew this would happen. I knew it was too good to be true. My perfect man’s got girls in every town and I’m just one of the hundreds.
Less than a whole minute had passed and I’d already convinced myself that I’d hooked up with a serial dater who was sowing his seed all over the city.
Could it possibly be that whilst I’d been falling for this incredible stranger; the one with the electric smile, thick Gatsby hair and emerald green eyes…he was actually off catching more flies in his web? I’d had a Match subscription for all of twenty four hours, whereas he had already been there when I found him…and for just how long exactly? Maybe he was a Match veteran! My mind bounced from thought to fear, pondering the potential of my own propositions. There was certainly a chance that I wasn’t alone.
“Maybe he just really likes dating" I thought out loud alone in my own empty room. Maybe he really likes going out on jollies, but never commits to a relationship…and I suppose that, of course, would be his own prerogative. After all, the site was set up for dating, not marriage. Or was it? I suppose that’s the idea…but really that’s just presumption by the user. Oh I don’t know….!!
*Inhale* …and breathe.
We needed to have ‘The Talk’. I picked up my cracked phone and I text him.
“Hello, it’s me" (of course it was me, my name would have started the message *facepalm*) …”I was just wondering if maybe…we could talk”.
As always it didn’t take long for my message to be read. Those two words….’message seen’, they give more away than they’re meant to. My heart pounded with self doubt wondering what words would fall from my motor mouth next.
“Oh hello ‘me” he said, ”what’s up?”
To be continued…