‘If you’ve like him for so long and want to take him in a date, why don’t you just ask him already?’ my faithful partner in V Festival crime Kate asked me. I’d heard it before, but for the first time it wasn’t a ruse to get me to chat up Olly Murs in the VIP area. This time it was about another guy: Scott. ‘What’s the worst that can happen? If he says no, you’ve still not missed out on anything.’
Standing in my wellies and pac-a-mac, I responded with a quiet hum and thought about the logic of her advice. I offer out the same advice regularly; it’s sound advice, and I stand strongly in agreement with it. However, it’s also advice to which I continually refuse to adhere myself. When it comes to matters of my own heart, my argumentative head gets involved and vetoes all common sense.
Deep down I knew that if I asked Scott out for a drink, he’d say yes. We first met on Grindr back in the Spring and I was instantly attracted to him. After a few weeks of banter we arranged to meet up one afternoon. The only funny business that took place was the telling of stories as we got to know each other; we clicked effortlessly.
After that afternoon we hung out in a few more times and I went over to his flat on occasion to watch TV when mine was on the blink. There was always a copious amounts of flirting between us and even a few smooches. The right signals were all there. But why couldn’t I seal the deal and ask him for a proper date?
As Kate and I walked over to the nearest beer tent, meandering through fellow revellers, she blurted out: ‘You enjoy being on your own too much don’t you?’ I looked at her, bemused.
As much as I hunt for a boyfriend, repeatedly go on dates with long-lost members of the Addams Family, have turned the walk of shame into part of my weekly cardiovascular routine and (to top it off) document it all in a dating column, I think I kind of like my life that way.
Maybe my friend was right. I can’t commit to asking Scott on a date because I’m not ready for it yet. I’ve been single for two years now and am finally starting to enjoy it. I have great housemates and a network of drinking buddies. I’ve got an exciting, sociable and highly satisfying job. The ball of life and what direction it’ll take is comfortably now in my court. Relationships are too messy, unpredictable and complicated. I like it being just me.
However, at the same I can’t seem to get this guy out of my head. Everything about him makes me a bit nervous. I grin like a Cheshire cat when he texts me. I secretly hope to bump into him every time I’m at the Tube station on the way to and from work. I run slightly slower when I jog past his house hoping I’ll see him. I like feeling this way.
That night as I zipped up my sleeping bag in my cold tent I thought about the routine my life is in. It’s great and fun and I’m in control. However, while the ball may be in my court, life is more exciting when the game is in action. With what little signal and battery in my phone I had left, I texted Scott:
‘I want to take you on a proper date and show you a great night. I think you’re hot, funny and someone I’d love to get to know more…x’
Now all I have to do is sit and wait for his reply.