Prologue
What made me decide to stay single for a year?
Men.
Well, actually loads of them, with their paper thin, pathetic dumping lines.
But maybe they're right - it's 'not them, it's me'....
- I'm notorious for dragging my feet,
- I ponder with decisions for way too long,
- I never go with my Gut Instinct as the first option,
- I'd love to be the 'one-who-dumps', rather than the 'one-who-has-just-been-dumped-again-for-some-pathetic-reason'.
And the pathetic reasons?
- The 'I-need-more-space' get-out clause..... and then you see him falling down the cleavage of some tourist in Camden only a week later.
- The 'It's-not-you-it's-me' break-it-to-her-gently approach.... and there I was thinking that one was a sexist joke that stand-up comedians bandied about, along with the shabby mother-in-law jokes. Take it from me, guys really use it. And they really believe that you believe them...
- And if the sentence ever begins with "My Mum thinks...' then you know what's coming.... I've been subjected to 'My-Mum-says-I'm-too-good-for-you,' and the kinder, 'My-Mum-thinks-you're-too-old/young/independent-for-me.'
Trust me - they get worse.
How about, 'I have to break it off. I've been seeing someone else and they told me I had to choose.'
And then there's the guys themselves. I use the term loosely - if I hadn't seen for myself I'd place high odds that they'd lost their balls years ago. I have a rather embarrassing 'portfolio'. The chat-show host who talked too much, the potter who was clumsy and awkward with his hands and the stylist who adored his own reflection -constantly harping on about my own 'severe lack of style'. So it only took one small, and very quick phone call to put me off men.
For an entire year.
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five....
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