I think I might have massively overestimated my stage in the heartbreak recovery process. Over the last couple of days, I have definitely tried to run before I can walk. This is not good news, I think I need to go back to Istanbul to find myself again. Now wouldn't that be a damn shame?!
I think the 'oh I'm fine, I'm cured' stance adopted during and immediately after my fab little trip east, might have been fuelled by that wonderful emotion we call anger. The only problem is that anger does not last forever, and like most things it fades into something less dramatic. In my case that's going from happy, positive Nicky, back to mooching, feeling bleugh Nicky. It was nice for those few days though, I guess that's something. Just need to find a way to make the high last a little longer next time.
So trying to be proactive, refusing to mooch if I could help it, I decided to try something drastic. Now, don't laugh, this is not something I would normally admit to doing, but my god it has made me chuckle, so really it would be rude not to share.
Okay here goes - I attempted onling dating.
In the space of half an hour, I was propositioned, insulted, freaked out and reduced to tears due to laughing far too much. One guy wanted to show me his art work, I'm not sure if he really meant his art work or something else.
Now I'm sure for some people this method of meeting people works, in fact I know a couple who met over the internet and are now happily married. I can only assume they were both a hell of a lot more patient than me, and happy to weed their way through countless weirdos before finding someone with a basic level of sanity. I have no patience, so it looks like back to the drawing board for me.
The worrying thing about this is that during my time of searching for potentially half decent guys, I found myself comparing them all to the boy. This is not good news either. I read an age, my immediate thought was 'oh he was 27 last week too', I saw a photo of someone vaguely ethnic looking, my interest immediately piqued, only to crash back down when I realised he looked nothing like him, so therefore was not attractive in my eyes.
Arrgh! I'm trying, honest to god I am. I know that I've done all I can and need to walk away, so I'm trying to be proactive, trying to move on, albeit half-heartedly, or even quarter-heartedly, if there is such a thing. Why is it not working?!
Yes, I know, I must be patient. Like I said before, I have no patience.
This may also be because the basic reality of it all is, I don't really want to let it go. But let it go I must. So I'm told.
I really am starting to believe that maybe I'm destined to be alone. I even sat and thought about this in some depth the other day, tried to convince myself that it really wouldn't be so bad, tried to see the positives in it. There's a few I came up with - no male moods, no dealings with man flu, no having to pick up wet towels off the bathroom floor, nobody leaving the toilet set up, no odd, dirty socks on the bedroom floor. That's it. A pathetic bunch of positives to come up with really.
Of course, I don't need a man to make me happy, I'm thinking maybe that seeing as everybody I even look at these days seems to come up short and be compared to someone who really doesn't treat me properly anyway, and has questionable eyebrows, then maybe I really am better off on my tod for a while. If you read Cosmo, which I do quite frequently, then all the twaddle they spout about being happy with yourself, and needing time to heal after a relationship break up, really could be quite true. I think I might try and find out.
So needless to say, I won't be seeing anybody's art work, and I certainly won't be going to other dude's house to bake bread (yes, this was a serious request), in fact this whole experience of delving into the world of internet weirdos has put me off for life. I apologise if I'm insulting anyone that uses these sites, I'll quite happily admit that not everyone is like this, it's just that I seem to attract weirdos.
They say opposites attract, you see.