People-&-Social

I never sent this though - in retrospect, I should have, and drawn a line under the sordid, heart rending affair that was my dalliance with LK. Source: I have given our prospective Thursday evening meetup a lot more thought. Under different circumstances - if we didn’t have the ‘us’ elephant in the room - I would have no reservations whatsoever with popping into London to see you. I enjoy your company that much, and have genuinely looked forward to every second we’ve spent together. ...

As suspected, my neither here nor there dalliance with LK sputtered to it’s pretty much inevitable death. That the trigger - in her words - was a relationship seminar the day before rather than plain old irritation was more the surprise rather than that it came to that. In retrospect, I committed way too much, way too soon. If there is a lesson here it is to go slow- let the interest be known but not drop all inhibitions and lose all the mystery. There is a sense of de ja vu here - back to square zero again after five or so months, multiple dates, a start that promised much but ends yet again in the dreaded friend zone. ...

Against my better judgement I WhatsApped LK whilst she was in Paris to say I’d thought a lot of her on the day, and that I hoped that she’d had a blast so far.. Very nearly 12 hours after she’s been in London, over 36 since she read the message, and two profile picture changes later, she hasn’t deemed it fit to respond in any shape or form. Guess whatever ambiguity there was about the need to ease myself off has slowly resolved itself. It is very much an ending of sorts now..

Having given the subject of my proposed trip to London to see LK a lot of thought, I resolved that the sensible thing was not to go through it. Two main things stood out in my head as valid reasons for this position - she was due to go away for a much deserved holiday the day after and didn’t deserve to go under a cloud, and perhaps more importantly I felt we were at a level of irritation at which constructive conversation was well nigh impossible. I thus penned a lengthy email exploring my feelings and explaining my decisions which I intended to send through to her after we had had a quick chat. ...

LK and I somehow ended up having yet another conversation on the never quite clearly defined subject of ‘us’. Having gone ahead to send through a gift for Valentine’s Day, I did feel a little bit miffed that my efforts had merely provoked a very understated reaction. One thing led to another and I ended up letting rip a broadside around the uncertainties I was having to carry around this connection. All this over whatsapp, and at work, which was criminal on my part I must say. ...

Fundamentally, I do like you, but there is a but. My initial elation very quickly vanished, to be replaced with a more pragmatic mix of angst, exasperation and some curiosity. LK and I had been chatting, catching up, and following up after my London trip, the main driver for which was a (second) date with her. After church at Hillsong - always a great bonus on these trips - I made my way towards the Angel Station where we’d planned to meet and then do lunch and talk. ...

In her own words, she is complex in a can of cute. Slouched in my favourite chair by my window, with the sound of passing cars, their occasional horn toots and the odd police siren as the soundtrack to my evening, up until then I had been having a chilled, if lethargic evening natter. I had one eye on the evolving tactical battle on my FM2013 Liverpool save and the other on my phone whilst we talked, before we segued into the subject of personality types and tests. Thanks to books like Quiet and Networking for Those Who Hate Networking, I am increasingly secure in owning up to being introverted - which was probably why without too much thinking I owned up to being INTJ. Her initial response was to ask me to translate that into real English; I promptly emailed her a link to the sixteen personalities INTJ page. That set off a bout of good natured teasing and banter at my expense - not that I minded. LK is delightfully great to talk to; her brand of acerbic, intelligent, thoughtful conversation delivered in a voice so soft one would assume she couldn’t hurt a fly is one that I have taken a great liking to over the past three months. Teasing over, I pressed her to take the test herself, knowing just how much insight into her personality it would provide and looking for canon fodder to retaliate. That was the setting for her declaration, in the aftermath of which I found myself soberly considering just what the potential ramifications of the revelation might be. ...

The one slight positive from the events of the last few weeks has got to be the opportunity to start over. For one it is a big reset of sorts, one from which I hope I can learn. Rock bottom/ square zero’s great in that regards - having hit there, the only way is up, if there is any movement that is. Looking back over the year so far, and the bevy of girl shaped failures that litter it, an overt eagerness to gain clarity and definition appears to be one of the key recurring hurdles at which I have fallen. At first it was due to the need to gain some sort of closure on the wife plan as the 34th birthday loomed, and then the pressure to demonstrate progress to the hordes of interested, knowledgeable others. ...

I’d like to think that looking for sympathy has never been my thing, but if it was, the circumstances of the tiff with Tee were never going to get me any. Nothing epitomised that better than my veritable wing woman K. In fairness to her, she had voiced several concerns over a month ago when the noises about moving to America had begun to get louder. It was in fact one of those conversations that led to her concluding that I was hell bent on getting myself hurt. ...

Tee and I had the talk, from which it transpired she wants/ can only be just friends with me. The bulk of that conversation was her version of the well-worn, if clichéd it’s not you, it’s me spiel.. One can only handle being told about being a great guy with a great heart so many times before it begins to ring hollow, like the copout I have always felt it is… ...