The return of Mr Max...

With reasons unbeknown to me, I don’t seem to ever be able to get both love and sex. I spent so long waiting for love, when it felt like it would never come, I gave up on the idea. The day I stopped believing in it was the day I started to have sex for fun. And oh the fun I’ve had. It is a truly magnificent thing and I am very good at it… yeah, I know, it’s easy for me to say, but I am very self aware, so if I say I’m good at something, you better believe I really am. Admittedly, I’ve had a range of very determined teachers. All very happy to be used as guinea pigs while I worked on those many ways to satisfy a gentleman. Funnily enough, that’s probably the only subject I happily would have taken homework home with me! Although, looking back, none of them really were gentlemen.

So, when, in a twist of fate, Mr Max’s old flame changed her mind, I thought, considering how good our first session had been, why not have some fun. He then went through all the emotions I’d had, and some more. Now, it would have been very easy to feel totally smug and pleased with this turn of events, but for reasons unknown to myself at first, I felt nothing of those feelings I expected – and believe me, Me, Myself and I have had big meetings over the subject, some of us were really concerned about our general lack of pleasure at this new development. I felt sorry for him and how he might have been feeling over the whole affaire. So, I put on my empathy hat on and offered friendship and support… Yes, I know what you’re thinking: How could I do this after what had happened? Well, what do you want me to say, I must bit slightly sado on the edges, because I went straight back.

Mr Max & I agreed to meet as “friends”, the type that kiss and cuddle and see where it would take us. - I can hear your cries of outrage… Give it up; what’s done is done ;-) . Ok, I confess, the fact that I’d arranged to meet with another man threw him a bit and, in a way, for lack of a better word, sealed the deal. That’s how we ended up spending that Friday night together. Now, trust me, I knew we would end up engaging in some real fun bedroom activities, but I also wanted to see how I felt about it all. And it felt brilliant. I’m not just talking about the sex, although that was pretty amazing, but I felt so comfortable with him, it was actually really nice. Better than I expected.

After a few days texting one another, he started to wonder whether I had ulterior motives to our little “relationship”. He reminded me that he was still very much in love with her and wasn’t sure when – if ever – he would get over it. Strangely enough, even though he had mentioned it before so it really wasn’t news to me, it came down on me like a tone of bricks. I guess, after Friday night, I thought there might have been something more. But it looked like I was wrong. He made that crystal clear. Now, as glad as I should be for his honesty, a part of me started to feel angry, cheated and robbed. The truth of the matter is that I brought all this upon myself. I always, somehow, make sure the relationship is doomed from the start or I sabotage it all along the way. So now comes the hard task of telling him that meeting up again isn’t going to be a good idea, even though I’m rather desperate for his company, love and that strong connection that brought us together in the first place. And I don’t mean hard for him, no, I’m thinking about Me, Myself and I here. Because sending him away is going to take me right back to that dreaded single status. But I have to protect myself and I know, deep down, that if I haven’t fallen for him already, I will do very soon. And that’s just a recipe for disaster in my books.

So could this be the beginning of the end of Mr Max, you ask. Well… No. As we talked and I got ready to give him my best, most convincing version of “let’s not see each other again”, after many, many failed attempts, he stopped me by admitted this whole thing was a little more than just sex to him. Now, many flags rose up, the cannons rang, telling me to just leave … so I stayed! He asked for a couple of weeks to sort his situation out, and I gave it to him. No hesitation. No pause. The thing is, at the time, I was also talking to a blast from my past. A guy I used to have fun with about 10 yrs ago reappeared and wanted a chat. Interestingly enough, after our first few dates, this guy had turned around and said, and I quote:  "you're not girlfriend material”. The realisation of how much those few words have impacted on me and played as the last nail in that strong foundation of poor belief in myself hit me there and then.

I know I must trust that I deserve better, I must want better than be second best or a play thing to men. I am worth more than that, even though my behaviour around men and those repeated situations I find myself in seem to say otherwise. But right now, I admit, I’m not sure how to do this whole believing in yourself gobbledygook. So, for now, I will take any glimmer of hope toward receiving love any day. And I will get my heart broken. I will hurt, and cry and feel like it will never happen for me. But then, hopefully, I will get up again, raising back from the deep crack inside me to where I can feel human again, woman again, myself again. And who knows, one day, I might begin to see the light and believe in all that gobbledygook (I sure like that word!!!). Whether love comes along or not, that is another matter.

Whatever happens in London ...

So, Friday afternoon, I escaped to the big city for the week-end. Hey, my mate doesn’t call me lastminute.com for nothing! But then, she likes things planned ahead. I’m really not that organised, more of a free spirit me. So, planned to meet with a couple of friends and be totally reckless. I wanted time to forget about my many issues holding me back, my need for love, the loneliness I felt daily, the hurt I’d had over the last few months and just be me. To let that fun, outgoing, friendly, sexy and outrageous - at times - side of me out of its cage for a tiddly bit. I don’t let it out much lately, so it was really keen to see the bright lights of the night.

Now, before you get all excited… No Mr Big. Turned out, he was in France, of all places, on a tour. Good thing then, you'll agree, that I wasn't banking all my fun time on him. Yes, I admit, it would have been nice to see him, but being aware of his whereabouts before hand meant that the knowledge barely affected that side of me’s needs and enthusiasm to get out. And so, it did. Oh, it really did. And it had a fabulously fun time!

Friday night was rather calm and reasonable. Had a bottle of wine with a nice Chinese meal in a very quiet restaurant. Yes, had the bottle all by myself. Ella decided one glass would suffice her. I had other ideas. Besides, I’d received an e-mail just before going out that shook me slightly and I wasn’t going to let some laying in feeling raise its ugly head during my week-end of irresponsible fun. I had a plan and no man, nor my feelings for him, was going to be able to stop me!!! Oh, I hear you, a bit of wine isn’t that bad, really. And I guess, in the grand scheme of things, and within this drinking culture we now live in, I admit, it was a child’s game. But you got to start somewhere. And more importantly, you have to pace yourself. I still had Saturday night to come, and I knew being out with Kat was going to require all my commitment to my original plan. Friday night was just easing me in, a warm up, if you will!

And, thanks to Ella’s 6 years old daughter, I even got the opportunity to feel the lack of sleep as she made her way into my bed at 6.30 in the morning, with cat in tow and children’s TV to entertain yours truly. I love children, I love children, I love children, yes I do, yes I do, yes I do … But not at 6.30 on a Saturday morning after too much red wine!!! I did try to ignore her, but I should have known better really, because it just made it worse as the more I ignored her, the more attention she wanted. I know this; it’s my job to know this! But I’d left my professional hat at home, and by God, did I pay the price for it there and then. But I was a great friend as I let Ella sleep in until nearly 9. Oh yes, I am a fantastic friend! She bought me breakfast later on, so we’re even ;-)

I made it to Kat on time, for once. Hey, I said I’d be there by 3pm and I was there at 2.55pm. What more do you want from me!?!?! Kat is one of those limited edition types of friends. At least in my life. She’s 40, got no kids, no hubby, and can party the way only the brits can. Took me long enough to get to her level of commitment when taking to the night, she’s one of those pros. But Saturday night, I wanted to make her proud. To show her how far I had come and how well she had taught me. Although, after reflection, I think we both were slightly surprised by how far I really had come. Ooops!

To be continued…

The one that got away...

I talked to Mr Max last night, and even though I am still finding it difficult to accept his decision, the truth of the matter is, had it been the other way round, I probably would have done the same thing. I mean, how many people would turn down giving a chance to the one that got away? Ok, ok, that little evil voice at the back of my head keeps hoping she’ll be nothing like he expects, will be boring and, most importantly, crap in bed. I have some real nasty thoughts in that twisted head of mine... Oh, jealousy is such a powerful thing.

I tell you what though, this whole thing gives the phrase "It's not you, it's me" a whole new meaning. And in a way, I guess it should help, because, after all, it really isn't about me... even if that most insecure part of me keeps nagging at me that the one that got away is probably more beautiful, sexier, more intelligent, funnier ... and it goes on, and on, and on... It really never shuts up! That's why I tend to get her really really drunk so she can't nag me anymore.

This does bring up another problem: I haven't figured out a way to only get her sloshed. Every other single side of me get it too. So, unfortunately, the paranoid one jumps in there with her, followed very closely by the one that feels sorry for herself and it becomes a real soap opera. Even Eastenders is more up beat than them all put together. But that's only a temporary set back. I'm working on it and will figure out a way to shut her up and only her!

So, what to do, what’s next? Where do I go from there? For a start, I think I’m going to put men, sex and relationship aside for a bit. Only got 3 months left on that dating website, so will let that run its course and not bother after that. Although, Mr Big has been in touch a lot lately, asking me to, and I quote, “get my sexy butt back to London asap”. And after the last few months, I think I deserve a bit of a break from all this emotional drama.

Actually, I’ll just put relationship to the side for now. God I am useless at this!!! LOL Well, I admit that London sounds like a very tempting change of scenery, and even sweeter with a side of Mr Big… Ahhh, that Mr big, he is fine! He’s like one of my toys on legs. For some reason, this 28yrs old guy likes older women. And when I say older, I mean way older than me! I’m just a young chicken to him. And to me, well, he’s just too hot to turn down! He’s one of those rare bad boys that get under your skin and you just can’t get ride of.

Hey, don’t think I’m deluding myself, thinking that sex can change anything. I know it won’t, and I know it might mess me up some more, but I’m afraid I’ve always used sex as a way to escape so… London, brace yourself, here I come!!!

Reasonable depression

Did you know that doctors sometimes use the term: reasonable depression...? Yes, apparently, if you lose one of your parents or a child, you are entitled to a certain amount of time being depressed. My question is, what about the rest of us? What about those of us who have both their parents, healthy children and have other problems that might cause some kind of depression. Do they call it unreasonable depression?

Well, either way, I now truly believe I must have been a really bad person in my past life. Why else would my life keep kicking me when I'm down? I mean, there I am, minding my own business, trying to just get on with my life, but noooooo, whoever is in charge up there has decided I'm just not going to have it this easy. For years, it just gave me bad relationships, the type you're meant to learn from, the type that damages your self-worth and your self-esteem.

And when you think you've learned your lesson, that you're ready for the real thing, it sends you a gentleman, a nice, kind and loving guy. It even lets you think that you might actually have a chance at happiness right there. It waits in the dark, watching as you get settled in your new, unusual role. Then, just because it can, it takes it away. No warnings. No reasons. At least, none that you are used to or can make sense of. No, this time, it’s just a case of him not being ready to move on. And for some reason, it just makes matters worse.

Now, at this point, you convince yourself it was just bad luck, no way was this done on purpose. So, you try to move on and eventually, well, you do. A few months later, in comes a new man, one that shows promising prospect, who is open and honest, who really likes you, and who doesn't have the issues the last one had. So down goes your carefully placed protective shell. Oh, what a mistake that was. And it knows, it watched and it smiles… Oh I bet it does! Because before you know it, this great prospect turns around to say that, actually, he's just met with a girl he used to be in love with and has just found out she felt the same. So, once again, you're left on the side line. No warnings either. Oh, he is sorry, he even suggests you stay friends.

Oh how much fun is your life right then? And still, that one in charge smiles and surrounds you with happy looking couples, just to remind you of what you're missing out on. It fills your life with friends who don't know what it's like to be 36 and single, who try to help by telling you that you’re not getting out enough, you're too fussy or you're looking too hard. If I had a pound for every time I heard the phrase: "It will happen when you're not looking for it", I would be financially set for life. And then, for some incomprehensible reason, it attacks the few parts you think you're in control of. It makes that job you love a nightmare by giving you power crazy committee members. It uses that exciting degree you've taken on to make you relive bad school days... And did I mention, to top it all up, it makes sure to give you an added bonus by making you fat? 

Oh the joy that is life. Who ever said life is beautiful? Because, I have to tell you the truth on this one, listen carefully, as they really don't want you to know this, it's too big, too much, too scary for any one person to face: Life sucks!!! At least mine feels like it right now. Anyway, this time, I think I'm entitled to some reasonable depression time. And I'm very much planning on cashing it in!

Sex, love and relationship...

So, second date with Mr Max. I had some strict rules in mind, had planned the whole day out and was not going to take any risks on this one. I like the guy, I want to give this a proper go and not let my addiction to the pleasure of flesh get in the way. Ok, yes, he was going to pick me up from mine, but I figured, my house mate was going to be home so no problems there. But all the best laid plans... turned to mush when I found out she was going away for the week-end at the same time he was picking me up!

Let me set the scene... 10am, the front door rings and she's just getting ready to walk out the door. I'm suddenly realising this is a very dangerous place to be in. I can see it in his eyes, he's got cheeky ideas in his mind and the temptation is screaming at me. I only have so much self control, and when it comes to sex... well, what can I say... My name is Carine and I'm an addict!

Lets just say that roughly 15minutes after my housemate abandonned me and one cup of coffee and one of tea later - left aside getting stone cold, - I was being undressed... God, I am useless at this. So much for me trying to get into a relationship on stronger ground than sole for sex. After all, as much fun as sex is, what I'm really after is some great love on the side of good sex. Or should it be good sex on the side of great love? I guess you can see where my problem lies. However, I do have to confess, this was more than just a good time... It was a hell of a great time. The man has some pretty impressive moves. Now, Ash will tell you I’m easily pleased, but I don't think so, I'm just good at giving directions. Some people can clearly explain how to get from A to B, I'm just really explicit on how to get me there, over and over again. Simple.

The interesting thing with Mr Max is his passion for ... well, passion. And I know from experience it's rather helpful to have this kind of information before you really get into the bloke. Imagine falling for a man only to find out he can't take you all the way. Believe me, I've been there, it ain't pretty, no matter how much you love him. And that's where things can get messy, scary and complicated, because Mr Max is more than one of my new toys with brand new batteries and offers much more than theses precious gadgets in my box.

And that's usually when I start to lose the plot. Because the truth is, sex, I can do, I'm good at it. It's simple, straight forward, unbelievably fun and doesn't require you to take much emotional risks. Relationships are so much more terrifying, you bare your soul to someone else, give them a piece of your heart while, inside, you just can't help but worry about their ability to reduce those very fragile and precious part of you to shreds.

So what to do? Stay home, never risk getting your heart broken or get out there and risk to be reduced to tears? The funny thing is, no matter how many tears I have shed over men, how often I have felt like giving up on the idea of love in my life, that romantic side of me just won't drop it. So, yes, I am still a romantic at heart, and even if life has managed to reduce that voice down to a whisper, it has not minimised it's commitment to searching for that great love. Call me an idealist, a dreamer, a romantic or maybe just crazy, but at the end of the day, my heart has its own agenda. Believe me, I have tried to change its mind, but it just won't let go. It's just as stubborn as I am. 

And you know what, it reassures me that it is. It's helping me take risks and right now, it's leading me right into the arms of Mr Max, for possibly love, maybe a relationship and as we figure this out, plenty of great sex! 

Kissing Frogs

It's been 5 years since my last serious relationship. 5 years! That's equivalent to about 1303 weeks or 9125 days. That’s a lot of alone time. Now, don't take me wrong, I had plenty of fun during that time, plenty of no-strings attached fun. But, like all self confident single woman, it just doesn't cut it, does it? So, after moving to Devon, I thought I'd had enough kissing frogs and that it might be time to take the next step. So, I joined a dating website. And, no, I'm not a dating website virgin... Hey, where do you think I found my no-string attached fun!?

But I decided to be good. To be reasonable. And to NOT, under any circumstances, get into bed with them in the first few dates. With all the best intentions, I went on my first date. Lovely lad, but, unfortunately, I fell in love with his car!!! He wasn't impressed, understandably. And, yes, I admit, I tried to get into his pants... What can I say, some addictions are just really hard to kick. Luckily, he had been put off and didn't take advantage of my weakness.

Then came the next man. And the following one. And the one after that. And I was starting to see a pattern reappearing. How do you still pick the wrong men, even on line? Seriously, I knew about how your attitude can be a magnet for the wrong type of partners, I just never thought it would transfer onto paper! I must have some fantastic psychic connection... either that, or my desperation is leaking onto my laptop's hard drive.

Then came Mr H. Perfect on paper, in picture and on the phone. Tall, handsome, quite a bit older than me, divorced with 3 kids and fairly local. We met and I admit, I immediately melted. He was even more charming than I had imagined and the chemistry was there instantly. So, I did what I always do when I meet someone I really fall for: I went to fantasy land! You know, lala land, that little space in the back of your mind where you can make dreams come true. Although mine is probably a little bigger than most slightly bonkers women. Anyway, we'd only been out once but I already had us married and living happily ever after. Nothing new there. My typical pattern.

The second date was lovely too, although it took him a good 3 weeks to get himself organised and sorted to meet up again. That should have been my first clue. But no, I had my blinders on, and saw only what I wanted to see. He really liked me and I needed to be understanding of his situation. So, I gave him even more time to get himself sorted for our 3rd date. It did eventually come. Yet, as much as I tried to ignore them, the cracks where starting to appear. As charming, loving and interesting as he was, I started to feel I was doing all the work. I then did something I'd never done before: I told him that if we didn't meet more often, our little relationship would never get off the ground. And, logically, he ended it.

It felt like my heart broke into million pieces. It wasn't just loosing him, but also losing the idea of what could have been. All those dreams and everything I've always wanted. I tried to hang on to him, to hang on to the hope he might change his mind, especially since he said he just wasn't ready to move on. To me, there was no  actual closure. So, instead of moving on, I waited for any news of him while finding someone to fill in the gap. All I wanted was someone like him. I found a man of similar age/background and even more local and recklessly jumped into bed with him. It was farther away from anything I really wanted, but my desperation to be loved was taking over.

Christmas came and went. As the new year started, I tried to move away from all this ridiculous and unhelpful behaviour. I also started to get slack on my dating activities. No one was e-mailing me, and I wasn't bothered in searching much. Part of me had started to give up on the idea to meet someone even half decent. I wasn't sure I was ready for another blow just yet. I felt like I'd given enough to men, in terms of wasted time, energy, emotions and tears. Things back home were not good, which took my mind of those mindlessness thoughts and i was getting ready to visit my family.

And then, just before I flew home for the February holidays, came that first e-mail. It was sweet and I thought, why not? We started e-mailing, then chatting on msn. We had so much in common. From what we liked doing, to what we wanted in life and a similar sense of humour. There was a real connection there... and we both got carried away in how things might be when we met. He talked of going away together, going to a concert he's got tickets for in May, even maybe go to a wedding... And we also talked about sex a lot.

How insane is this! It was all I have ever wanted. But no, I panicked. I stopped him in his tracks and we agreed we should take it slowly... Yeah right. Like I can do that... But I also really wanted to be good, to be reasonable, to build our relationship on more than a physical connection - Oh to hell with it! cried that part in my head on fire, close to short circuiting while fantasizing about our relationship! 
A couple of days after I came back to Devon, we had our first date. I admit kissing him within 10 minutes of meeting him. I wanted to know straight away. Was that smart? I don't know, but my emotions got overwhelmed and toward the end, I cried.

Now, I ask you, you're on a first date, you think it's going well, the girl is kissing you and suddenly, she starts crying. If I was the bloke, I'd have ran a mile! But he stayed put. He hugged me and handled it. Although I know that he wondered what my next move was going to be after our date. And honestly, I had a lot going through my mind. 

After work, on Friday, I had a drink with one of the girls I work with. We talked about men, about this new guy I'd met, about her relationship and her getting remarried. And she said something that really hit me. Something she had realised when her partner asked her to marry him, when she wondered whether this was the right thing to do, whether it was too early after her divorce, until she asked herself this question: "What am I waiting for?". As she explained this to me, she looked me in the eyes and asked: "What are you waiting for?" and that phrase stayed with me, echoing over and over inside my head, working its magic until, suddenly, I thought "What AM I waiting for?"

So, I'm done kissing frogs. Right now, I'm kissing Mr Max. One of those rare men who doesn’t need to be taught how to kiss and who's full of potential. God knows where this will take us. But I'm sure going to enjoy the ride!