Read this if you’re heartbroken over a relationship that never started
A few dates and it’s over? I’ve got you
I fell madly, deeply, and utterly in love with someone. I can tell you the exact moment I realised it, as he placed his hands around my waist and looked into my eyes as we danced badly on our own. My heart raced for the first time in years. I loved him. I loved him. Me, the girl who would never love again, I loved him. I loved this man I barely knew, this man in black velvet with kind eyes. I kissed him, deeply. I didn’t know, then, that I was never going to see him again.
Yep, the Hanson Curse continued: ‘the age gap is too significant, you need someone your own age.’
Which, to be honest, is a bit like telling a gay man just to date women. I am not, and have never been, attracted to men under 40. I feel the same way about them as I do iguanas, tax forms, and Teletubbies. Totally asexual. If I could do, I just would: that sounds much easier. Anyway, that’s not what I wanted to talk about.
TLDR, he didn’t really like me. I wasn’t anything special. Which is fine, and if I’m honest, I’d have liked to be more in shape and less tired and less stressed when I met him. I could lose a few pounds and I needed a haircut. I was a bit anxious, a bit insecure, and I was a bit weird. I knew he…
