I have now been single for the longest time since I was wow.. probably seventeen. We’re coming up to the year and a half point, which in hindsight probably isn’t that long, but I’m now in my mid-twenties with some incredibly cute baggage. I jumped from relationship to relationship, some more real than others. Some.. purely sex, some I thought were the “real” thing. After my last terrible relationship, I think I’ve ended up being pretty jaded. Perhaps even hopeless is a word to describe how I feel about the chance of ever being in a relationship again. But I’m also a fantasist. In my head I have a million and one scenarios where the man of my dreams (usually Emun Elliott) sweeps me off my feet and I finally get my Happy Ever After.
I’ve been browsing an old blog I had, High Tops & Heels
if you fancy a read, it was much more life style and ramblings than this blog. It had no structure and I wrote in it when I had something on my mind but it’s eloquent and probably shows more of the real me than I’d ever allow onto this blog. I started it when I was between boyfriends last time around, although I wasn’t short of male attention. My feelings haven’t changed so much in three years that my words are unrecognisable. I still believe everything I wrote back then.
“I’m not looking for a guy who has a fast car or lots of money.. but if you do have a car I love to sit in the passengers seat with my feet on your dash singing obnoxiously along with a mix tape. I don’t want you to be into football, or many sports at all.. I’d prefer you to like books and music. Then maybe we could have a real conversation. I’m a sucker for a musician or an artist.. At the very least know how to pronounce Merlot properly, please. The sexiest thing a man can wear is a pair of Converse Allstars, I can assure you I’m already yours. Fight with me, argue, show you have an opinion. I was brought up being taught that being able to fight your corner was not a bad thing. It shows you have passion for something, and I like passion. I’m passionate, in love and in life. You need to be too, as I know i’m capable of walking all over you. I need a guy who’ll keep me in my place, I’m a bitch otherwise and I’d hate to end up wearing the trousers, because I don’t even wear trousers! Fight for me. Please show me chivalry isn’t dead. If we have a fight show up at my door, at midday or midnight, it doesn’t matter. You don’t even have to say you’re sorry because as soon as I see you on my doorstep, I’ll melt and say it first.“
I know what I’m looking for but I worry he doesn’t exist. It’s so far to see anywhere past your front door when you’re on your own with your child. Plus i’m unsure if I’ll ever find anyone I’d ever trust enough to allow into my life again. Trust is always a huge deal in relationships and I struggle to trust my own parents let alone many other people, especially men. I worry every day I’ll never get over it. That I’ll be stuck like this forever. Unable to let anyone in for fear of being hurt. I know deep down we all have that fear, and the more bad relationships that we go through the more baggage we come out with at the other end. But it’s more than that. It’s the fear that after the next bad break up I’ll be unable to put myself together again. I barely scraped through this one and I only managed it because I have someone who depends on me. I’m not a strong person by nature, I never have been. I am categorically and instinctively a damsel in distress. I will happily say I’d rather have a man fix me than do the fixing myself. Having to force myself to make a life, however rubbish it is, for my daughter was one of the hardest things i’ve ever had to do. Some days I simply exist for her sake rather than my own.
I often feel so broken, and I know I moan about this so much I must sound like a broken record, but it’s true. I thought I was the girl who would eternally believe that fairytales do happen. That an ordinary girl like me would have her dreams come true. And I KNOW I should go out there and make them happen. I know this but not only is it hard with having my daughter, but I’m AFRAID. I’m so fucking afraid that every guy will treat me like my ex. That maybe I don’t deserve a happy ending? I mean because not everyone can get the guy of their dreams. I want to believe that I’m just not ready, that after everything i’ve been through I will one day I’ll meet a fantastic guy. That I have now kissed all the frogs and toads, and now I’m ready for my prince.. and that he will be worth the wait…
Or maybe I should just give up.. Maybe I’m so jaded now I’ve become impossible to save?