So I'm not perfect? Interesting...

The sudden realisation that you are the one at fault in a relationship isn't easy, you know?! Technically, it wasn't just my fault, he had a massive part in it as well, but this is the first time I had something to answer for.

I miss Mr Perfect.  For weeks and weeks I've been so angry with him, wanting to shout at him all the time - I mean really shout, just phone him up and rrrrrrooooooaaaaarrrrrr - I may bust his eardrum.  My friend finally told me I needed to figure out why I was so angry so I did a lot of soul searching and a lot of thinking and I realised I miss him.  So we spoke and I shouted, to my surprise he shouted back - hang on a minute, that wasn't part of the plan, what has he to shout about?? Well, he told me.  Turns out I'd been pushing him away for ages, pretty much as long as I'd suspected the cancer was back.  He said I left him no choice and that I'd already decided he was going to end it when I started the conversation that night.  We talked for a long time and a lot came out.

I took some time out and went back to my friend. "Oh thank god, I thought I was going to have to tell you."  Hang on another minute, not you too?  Yes, she said, I had decided it was over before I'd even spoken to him, I'd been pushing and testing him for weeks and the final shove was cancer.  Looking back I understand why he saw it that way, but to me it was self-preservation.  He told me he didn't expect to feel like this about me, that he was deliberately keeping me at arm's length and suddenly I meant more to him, that he wasn't sure what the future held for us.  In the back of my head I felt insecure that if I crumbled he'd run and that would really hurt, so I pushed him out the door and when he looked back the shields were up, when I realised my mistake he was gone.

I've always wondered when I would implode.  Everyone tells me you can't keep things bottled up, in the end it all comes crashing down.  I've been wondering what would finish me off every time somethings happens; between the miscarriage, meningitis, an abusive ex-husband and cancer I expected something to happen soon.  I didn't want Mr Perfect to be caught in the blast.  Turns out I haven't imploded and I actually feel like I can handle things, I don't bottle in the same way I used to, I'm getting better at life and maybe this is going to be ok.  Now I just need to figure out how to get him back.

We spoke again, he says he isn't sure - would I trust him not to run if it went wrong? Would he trust me not to shut him out again?  He said we're too fragile to do anything now and that the slights disagreement would be magnified - damn it, he actually makes sense.  I've always been impatient and once I get an idea in my head there's no shifting it, but seriously, this waiting is killing me (ok, bad metaphor)!  If we do get back together here are so many things to talk about first - freaking out over my meltdowns (him and me), are we serious or not? no more holding back, being a proper couple rather than two people who are dating even after six months.

Either way I miss him.  I've always lived by the rule don't go back, there's a reason why you broke up in the first place.  But I really do want him back.  I did things wrong in this relationship and for the first time I want to go back and put it right, at least then if it doesn't work I can say I tried my best.  If I could go back to 14th March I'd drive over to his, sit next to him and tell him the truth, "the cancer's come back and I'm scared."

I woke up and it was two years ago.

I woke up this morning and it was two years ago.  Mum has been re-diagnosed with cancer and this time it's come back worse, she has to have chemo for a bit. The frustration of spending the last eight months trying to convince her to go back to her ontologist finally took it's toll. To top this I spoke to my boyfriend the night before her tests and told him I was convinced it had come back, his response was to end the relationship saying he wouldn't be able to handle it if I went into meltdown.  So we'd been together six months and now suddenly it's over.  The stupid thing is he keeps telling me I can phone him whenever I need someone and that we can even meet up ... I'm confused, isn't that exactly the reason he ended it? Well, as usual I'm great, funny, gorgeous and all the other adjectives designed to make him feel better.

So I've made a decision - I'm going to be ok.  If I cry then ok, if I scream and shout then ok, if I calmly carry on with life then ok.  I'm sick of living in a soap opera full of ex-boyfriends who sleep with bridesmaids and run at the first sign of trouble and I'm sick of being told I'm perfect and it's them not me - durr, I know it's you, you're an arse, the only thing wrong with me is I keep dating arses.

Mum will get through this, I'll get through this, we'll all get through this - I don't know how, but we've done it so far...

Maybe the real deal, Maybe not.

Right, Mr Perfect! Thats his name for a start! He's in the Forces, originally from Cornwall so he got an accent like (you need to add the accent there!!) We met online after a massive argument with Mr Dark Horse where I mistakenly thought he was the last man in the world!! I can't remember if I told you about Matt...? 

So I got drunk and followed my friend's advice by signing up, it took me a week to get the courage to go back online and spellcheck what on earth i'd written in my drunken state!! Anyway, I emailed him, we got chatting, then we wrote each other off as living too far away so ignored each other for a bit, then randomly decided to meet, we've been inseparable ever since! He's lovely, gorgeous, funny, considerate and I'm only just discovering he's not perfect!! Yay me!! Just to give you an idea:

I'd had a terrible day, he was bored on night shift so in the morning I got a text picture of s duck holding a yellow rose! He'd remembered me telling him i want s pond in my garden and a duck called Duck and that my favourite glowers are yellow roses - i didn't even remember telling him!! 

Over half term (we'd only been together 3wks) I had to keep two "Mr Perfect Days" free for a surprise treasure hunt! I got a list of items to bring (certain clothes, phone charger etc) and a list of apps to download, then the clues started: starting at RAF Northolt I had to get us to the nearest tube station! Where did Charles Dickens send Pip to in London? Holborn (FYI central line straight through)! Who are the major sponsors of the MK Dons? Doubletree! Then a series if clues: largest Channel Island? Peter Pan and the Lost ???? 7th in line to the throne! Complete the Roman word - amphi???????

Basically he took me to the most amazing 5* hotel in the West End then to see Jersey Boys in the theatre! Was amazing, he chose the hotel to be in my favourite part of London! To say thank you I took him to see Skyfall at the Odeon in Leicester Square! When we got back to mine we got Chinese takeaway and sat on the couch under a duvet eating and watching a film- glamorous! 

The latest lovely thing he did was the other weekend; I had to go in to do a Saturday rehearsal for the show, he came over Friday night, I left him in bed Saturday morning, when I got back at 4 he'd cooked lunch/dinner - yep, he's a really good cook! On Sunday he made breakfast, we went for a walk, came back he made lunch while I watched the rugby again, then after the rugby I fell asleep on him (long week!!) and then he cooked dinner! He loves cooking but living in barracks he can't do any! 

I'm still waiting to discover the fatal floor - it's going to be pretty major I can tell!! He's not perfect, sadly, he's unbelievably stubborn, like point blank refuses to acknowledge another perspective! He cannot see an opinion that isn't his own, he's realised I won't back down either, but the other night after a 6hour disagreement over the first female actresses being prostitutes I said I was backing down - I was right and I stand by my argument, but I couldn't be bothered anymore and I really didn't care enough to keep it going, besides I can't sleep on an argument!! The only major thing is that he's got his options in April so we'll find out if he's going on a 4month attachment overseas, 3months in Afghan, 2yrs at another base in the UK or something in between! Not ideal! I could see myself marrying this one, he just needs to learn to keep his mouth shut sometimes!!

Oh wait - Just discovered another reason why I might have to marry this one: we wont see each other for 3weeks? I've just got my PJs from under my pillow and there's a note saying good night..... I've gone really girlie!! I knew it would happen eventually, but not for someone like him - he's a military man for gods sake!! He's caring and thoughtful (and oh my god the sex is amazing)!!

I'll let you know if I get carried away and accidentally propose!!!

OMG Y...!!

A while ago after a few drinks and another hideous argument with the mini-ex (Mr Dark Horse) I decided to do the unthinkable – yes, I took Mad Kate’s advice and joined a dating site.  I always get flashbacks of Carry On Loving or similar, except with a large amount of shame and embarrassment. I hate the idea of internet dating, it just seems wrong and a little bit too much like an emotional CV, but I have absolutely no way of meeting new people.  I do not have a single friend within a hundred miles and none of my friends think their single friends are good enough for me, which, while I appreciate the sentiment, doesn’t help me much. So, I thought what the hell, downed a bottle of wine and wrote my profile.  I figured I’d keep it simple, more due to my lack of sobriety than my intention to meet someone, so I wrote five whole sentences.  I said I’d been focusing on my career for the past few years and when I looked up into the world again I saw everyone had moved on and got married.  I listed my interests as F1, rugby, dancing, reading and the gym and uploaded the only recent photo taken at a school event. 

Surprisingly I got a few hits and not all of them were awful.  Don’t get me know they were far from normal, but not everyone has Psychopath tattooed across their foreheads.  There were the usual topless/pantless idiots who emailed me saying “hi ur fit” or “fancy a chat” – apparently the need for grammar and punctuation is lost on these people.  I also ruled out the married, the short, the unemployed and the downright weird.  I was about to give up when I got a reply from a very sweet looking guy I’d spotted a few days before.

I was drawn to him because of his incredibly beautiful eyes – you may have noticed I’m not a girlie girl and I certainly do not gush over some random man’s eyes – he just made me curious, so I emailed him.  His profile said he was a ‘sex-pest’ and wanting to know what kind of person advertises themselves as such, I asked him.  He was funny and as sweet as his photos would suggest.  We chatted on and off for a while, but I had decided he lived too far away and being a year younger than me, I was sick of dating men who wanted a mother more than a girlfriend, so I pretty much gave up and went to meet someone else.  It wasn’t until a few weeks later I found a message in my inbox asking how my day was.  We began chatting again, but I still had no intention of meeting him, then out of the blue he gave me his mobile number.  We started texting and I started to wonder what he was like in “real life,” he suggested meeting up and I agreed.  Up until the moment I walked in I was ready to write him off as another idiot with a fatal flaw that was soon to become a deal breaker for me. And then I walked in…

The first time I saw him he flashed me the most dazzling smile I’ve ever seen.  Yep, sucked in straight away.  As I turned from the bar and caught another look at him I realised who he had reminded me of – Tom Daley.  The just-legal-muscle-bound-god my colleague and I had been drooling over during the Olympics.  Yep, I was on a date with his better looking older brother (not literally).  I didn’t care if he broke my heart, he was gorgeous.  We chatted like we’d known each other forever; I remember witnessing so many awkward first dates and I started to wonder what other people thought of us, whether they had guessed we were on our first date or if we looked as natural as we felt.  I say “we”, because a few weeks on, we have talked about it and he felt the same.  There were two things that happened that night that made me want to see him again: he asked if I was hungry so we had dinner (I never ever eat on the first date), but I couldn’t decide what so he ordered two mystery meals and I had to wait and see what they were. The other was that he said he was bored during his night shift so he taught himself to palm read.  He took my hand and started to read my palm – this is the line of something and this is the line of something else, they do this and mean this and this is the Retard Line for believing everything I’ve just told you.  I was completely taken aback, how could I fall for such a ridiculous and obvious line?  He flashed me a smile again and that was it, I would have taken him home that second if he’d asked.

We saw each other again two days later and again two days after that and before I knew it I was smitten.  We talked about everything from work to family to bucket lists to ambitions.  We spent hours on the phone and not wanting to drag ourselves away we spent a long time regretting our lack of sleep during working hours – more so him than me!  This was the first time in a long time that someone was genuinely interested in me, he actually wanted me.  And amazingly, not just for my bum (notably my best feature).  One of the conversations we had to have early on was sex.  Our common ground was innuendo and word play and we spent a lot of time challenging each other to the most innocently controversial statements, but there was a serious undertone.  Having gone through a rough time with two exs in quick succession, I did not want to rush into anything.  The other thing was I’ve been having tests to figure out why the last time I had sex hurt so flippin’ much, so having been prodded and poked my medical practitioners across the County for the past three months, I was in no mood to be prodded again!  Turns out we have very similar views: not till the time is right and we’ll know when the time is right by how well we know each other.  Right, awkward conversation out of the way.  Sadly (and a tad ironically), this brought us closer together and all I wanted to do for the next week was take him home.  I only saw him yesterday and already I’m thinking about the next time I’ll see him.

I guess the main reason I’m thinking about him so much is because I’m not doing any of the running, he is.  It’s always me travelling miles on a moment’s notice to pick them up so that they can have a drink or because they need sleep (not that I do as well or anything), but not this time, in fact I feel really bad that he’s the one doing it all.  We will talk about meeting up and then I’ll get a text with a post code and instructions as to appropriate footwear.  Sound controlling? Yep probably, but for some reason I don’t mind, it’s nice having someone else take charge.  I’m so used to being the dominant one n the relationship (not that this is a relationship – we’re still very much in the ‘dating’ stage), it’s nice that I feel comfortable enough to be around someone who takes charge – plus he does this thing when he kisses me really passionately where he has hold of my hair, not in the league of 50 Shades or anything, I’m not that kind of girl, but enough that I know he wants me.  It’s intense and passionate, but not scary in a “if you leave me I’ll kill you” kind of way.  Of course I’m writing this now, who knows what will happen in a few more weeks, if I’ll even get as far as taking him home.

I read an article in a magazine recently and it said how the only thing worse than constantly meeting the wrong man was meeting the right man. I absolutely understand what she means. This is terrifying – what if he is The One?  What if he is the last person I ever have a first date with?  What if he is the one I wake up to for the rest of my life?  What if he is the last person I feel butterflies over?  The last person to see me naked?  The father of my children?  Seriously, this is terrifying!  I really like him, what if he isn’t perfect? What if I meltdown and he can’t handle it? What if he completely breaks my heart? At least when I’m dating idiots with no future I know how it’s going to end – right there and then – but what do I do when I meet someone I don’t want to lose?  The other problem is there is still so much to know about each other.  We seem to agree on a lot of things, but how much can you know until you live/sleep/eat together every day – what if I get completely sucked in, fall in love (for real this time) and then he breaks me? How do I know I’ll survive this one?  Why am I thinking the worst? Because I’m a realist?  Because I’m a cynic?  Because I’ve been so badly burnt in the past I’m a guarded, emotionally defunct idiot?  I don’t know.  Every time I start to over think I stop myself and go for a run – I’m getting really fit!!  I like him, I know that much.  I may be on my way to humiliation, hurt, love, forever. I don’t know. I guess that’s what growing up is – I won’t know until I get there.

Sh*t, that was scary...

I am finally able to write about this because everything in now fine, but a few weeks ago I realised I really had no idea what true fear was.

My beautiful 11 week old nephew had a bit of a rash and a cold. My dutiful sister took him to the GP who said it was a cold and just a standard rash.  After a night of constant crying she phoned NHS direct and they said to go to straight to A&E.  We didn't panic, after all the GP said he was fine.  My brother-in-law stayed at home and entertained the guests from their other child's 2nd birthday party and I took my sister to the hospital with the baby.  It was when the receptionist ran us to the children's ward that my sister fell apart.  She's always been the calm, logical one, she's the one who holds me together, what the hell do I do?  So I said the only thing that came into my head, "don't panic until they give us something to panic about - ok?"  She said ok and we got into the children's ward, then the treatment room, then the isolation room and finally the team of paediatricians.  Being rushed from room to room this quickly was bad, they were about to give us something to panic about.  My sister was terrified and I had no idea what to do, I kept telling her not to panic, not to pre-empt what might happen.  The doctor told us we did the right thing bringing him in and that he was very very poorly.  I kept hold of my sister in one arm and my nephew in the other and kept listening to what the doctor was saying, it wasn't for a few minutes I realised I'd stopped breathing.  My sister went outside to phone her husband and asked me to stay inside while they fitted the cannula and started the antibiotics and fluids.  Having to hold down a tiny baby made me feel two things: admiration for the doctor doing the procedure and total and utter fear.  Fear of not being able to help my sister, fear of losing him and fear of falling apart.

Over the next 48hours we were told to expect the worst.  All the doctor could say was it was an infection and it was serious.  Then we were told it was meningitis.  I went to work during the day and got back to the hospital most evenings to give them a break so they could see their other son.

For a whole week he was in hospital on so many drips, monitors and medication.  The only things that went through my head were the possibility of brain damage, amputations, septicaemia, blindness or being deaf.  It was horrible.  It was terrifying.  It was so many things I cannot even describe.  It was not until it was over that I realised it was shock.  That gut-rentching split-second when you drop a knife in the kitchen and you don't have shoes on - that was the feeling, but constant and it lasted a whole week until he came home.

The short story is that three other babies had presented with the same symptoms that month so the antibiotics they started immediately cured what he had - luckily it was the same infection and the meningitis was viral not bacterial.

It's only now I look back and think "we don't do anything by halves, do we?"  Mum can't have a bladder infection, she has to have cancer, my nephew can't have a tummy bug, he has to have meningitis...  When Mum was diagnosed my brother-in-law told me I was emotionally detached and possibly dead inside.  He was trying to shock me into understanding myself and to realise I was causing more worry by shutting myself down or putting my shields up, as it's now become known.  I have no idea if I did the right thing for my sister that day; I'll ask her in a few years when my nephew is strong, healthy and running around playing rugby with his brother.  I hope I did the right thing, but I have no idea. No one knows how they will react in that situation, I just did what I thought was right and however much my panic bubbled up inside me, I refused to acknowledge it was there.

If you have a baby or a child who is poorly (cold, tummy bug etc) and they develop a rash - TAKE THEM TO HOSPITAL!  My sister caught the virus so early he actually developed the other symptoms (dislike of light, stiff neck, grumpiness) in hospital, which means he always had a fighting chance.  My other sister has had to overcome an incredible guilt; she is a nurse and because the GP said he was fine, she said not to worry. We all have things to feel guilty about: I saw the rash spread to his foot, but it disappeared a few minutes later so I didn't think anything of it.  The paediatrician put the situation into context for us, "had you brought him in last night we would have sent you home and told you to give him calpol, which is what you did, even if we'd kept him in to monitor, we would not have started treating him until now. You couldn't have done anything differently."  She didn't have to say that, so I guess it's true, but it doesn't stop the odd moment of panic when I think of what might have happened...

Look out for these things:
Generally unwell with...

• a rash (even if it disappears under pressure),
• being grumpy, 
• not wanting to be comforted,
• lethargic and very tired but unable to sleep,
• stiffness in neck and joints.

Don't panic, just get them to hospital!

A year ago today...

A year ago today I was dancing the night away at my friend's wedding.  It was such a great day, I remember it as if it were yesterday, and today they celebrate their first anniversary.  All day I've been looking back and comparing then and now: at 12.15pm I looked at my watch and remembered that JP and I were on our way to the hotel - him determined he knew the way, me allowing him to lead, despite the fact that I knew a shorter route!  At 2pm I remembered how we were stood in the bar chatting to a girl I went to school with and the impending birth of her second child.  Now here I am at 8.30pm thinking about the endless drinking, dancing and giggling that went on all night.

Well, almost all night.

In four hours I will remember the moment I walked in on JP and the bridesmaid in bed together in our hotel room.  I cannot believe it's been a whole year.  I still can't believe how calm I was.  When I look back I see myself screaming and throwing things and doing some sort of Platoon- tribute, but there was none of that.  I excused myself and went into the en-suite telling the bitch to get dressed on the way.  I remember her telling me nothing happened... really?  I remember having to climb down the fire escape steps so that I didn't pass the bride or any of the other guests as I left.  I remember JP leaving me sobbing in the car park, having completely destroyed my faith in humanity, in love, in friendship and ultimately, in him.  That was the last time I saw him and the last time I spoke to him.  I didn't think I'd ever get over him, I thought that was it, I'd lost the love of my life and I was going to be forever alone destined, as Bridget Jones said, to die alone and be found months later half eaten by alsatians.

This year has been a roller coaster and so much has happened to prove to myself that I really can do anything and that JP wasn't the love of my life after all.  This year I've bought a house, been promoted and realised that it's actually ok to judge someone before you get to know them as long as you admit when that judgement is wrong.  I am me: I am determined, I am happy, I am judgemental, I am caring, I am guarded, I am responsible, I am indecisive, I am energetic, I am independent, I am loyal and one day I will find someone who loves and hates all of those things, but above all, I am worth waiting for and I am not willing to settle for second best.

FYI – there is a genetic fault in the male specie, approach with caution if at all.

If your other half ever says these things to you, do not take them as being totally true, regardless of how many times you ask them to be completely honest with you and even if they make you promise never to lie to them:

• You’re really special to me.
• I’m so excited to see you tomorrow.
• I’m in this for the longrun.
• If we’re talking about commitment, I’m there.
• I’m so relaxed around you.
• I’ve got issues, but I want us to be together, please be patient.
• I have no intention of messing this up again.
• I’ve missed you so much.

Having given Mr Dark Horse a second chance I am now massively regretting my decision.  It came with the usual level of BS; I really want us to be friends, I don’t want to be with anyone right now, blah blah blah.  Less than two hours previously everything was fine, he had even told me how much he was looking forward to seeing me.  So what happened in those two hours? According to him – nothing.  We had spent the weekend together and everything had been fine, great even.  We usually get highjacked when we go out so we decided to finally spend the evening in together just the two of us.  He cooked, we watched a film, perfect.  However, there is something fundamental that happened and it caused him to end it.  What was it?

I’ve reached the drunken stage of sarcastic curiosity now, I’m temporarily moving on from anger!  He made me watch rubbish TV at the start of the evening – surely that’s reason for me to finish it – maybe I criticised his favourite presenter, maybe I he gets weirded out by people who hardly talk over films, maybe our discussion about supernoodles made him realise our different choices of flavour constituted irreconcilable differences.  I’ll never know, and the reason I’ll never know is because he’s refusing to tell me.  All he’ll say is ‘something changed’.  I went from being the fun girlfriend who made him feel like he was on top of the world to being an ex.  He once said he loved how considerate I am and how I remember all the little details.  Well, he’ll get quite a shock next week when a bottle of champagne turns up on his doorstep congratulating him on his new job… this isn’t me being a weird stalker, I ordered it last week and the company won’t cancel the order!

I’m so angry.  I’m angry with myself for falling for it again – believing it when he called me special, believing it when he said we belonged together.  The other part is angry with him – I don’t believe him.  I can’t believe he can just turn his feelings off like that, suddenly not feel anything for me and want to be on his own.  Either way he’s lying, whether it was then or now.  I want this to be a glitch, I want him to wake up in the morning and realise he’s made a mistake.  Why did he spend two days begging me to take him back only to end it a few weeks later?  So many questions and I don’t even think he knows the answer.

Still, could be worse, he could have slept with the bridesmaid.