What is it with relationships? You either spend ages moping around and whining that you don’t have one, or you stick with the “I enjoy being a singleton” line. Classic. Of course, we all know when one comes along, it is simply the best thing in the entire world! You have to tell everyone you know, change your status on facebook, bebo, myspace and pretty much every strand of social networking you have with the web. You will have to start signing your texts with x’s, talk about your new man constantly, “forget” social events you organised with your friends to spend more time with your new interest and of course… You will have to be in constant contact with each other. All. Day. Long.
Ok, so maybe this isn’t you, but you are probably hard pushed not to find something in that paragraph that doesn’t sound like you. And if you have had any experience with relationships, you may also be aware of the three month drag. This is where all of the above twists itself inside out and vomits up its lunch over you. Suddenly you wonder, do those x's actually mean anything? You find you need to “forget” to meet your boyfriend to meet your friends instead (if they still are your friends) and perhaps the worst of all, the fact you really couldn’t be arsed whether or not you hold their cold clammy hands. You are only going from the cinema to the car after all- is it really necessary?
I had just hit the Three Month Drag.
My boyfriend mark and I met up online. I know what you are thinking; pheadophile and you would be wrong, at least… this time, but that’s not important. What is important is that he was sweet, charming, and from what I could see on a blurry webcam he wasn't wearing an anorak. Bingo! He's not a pedo!
I knew him as nothing more than a nice guy off some forum I had joined, who happened to be gay, and happened to live in the same city as me, and happened to be interested in me. I ogled at the opportunity like a fat girl ogles chocolate. So I decided to invite him out for a drink, seeing as he was taking his time about it, maybe he was nervous, perhaps it was the anorak I was sporting? Anyway, he said yes, and after the drink we went for a walk, which lead to another drink, which lead to climbing up a nice hill which lead to a kiss at sunset etc. etc. You know the awful spew-worthy stories, why should I cause you any more pain by reminding you how rotten life can be when we realise kisses on a hill at sunset are actually as appealing as being rimmed by a saber-tooth tiger. All because the reality is that it was fucking cold. And wet.
Everyone knows the answer, but everyone lies.