"And evening comes and I feel no better, it's closing time, women's needs, whatever"
"Alright sexy?" he said as I walked past him down one of the many side streets in Kingston.
Ugh, just ignore him. Fucking chavs.
"Hey now, I'm just kidding. But you are sexy."
Oh yes, you modern day Casanova. That is exactly how I've dreamt of meeting the man whom I hope to share the rest of my life with. Can't you just picture us telling that story to our mutual friends at parties?
"Well, I was just walking to meet my friends at the pub, when who should walk by me and say those sweet words that I've been waiting to hear for so long!"
And here I thought that romance was dead.
I went out on Thursday to meet one of my friends, Josie, so we could go to the local "indie club" and have a good night out with the ladies. I really didn't have any expectations for the evening except to get reasonably drunk and have some laughs. Really it just turned into me getting rat-assed drunk and complaining about men and gosh! why I haven't I found him yet, huh? Where the fuck is my goddamned Prince Charming already?!
We went to two different pubs beforehand down by the river so we could have some pre-drinks and enjoy the warm summer evening that London rarely sees. Somehow I ended up chatting to a twenty-eight year old man named, Matt, who was engaged to a woman from New Zealand named, Katie. She didn't like kiwis apparently, which is just baffling, because I think kiwis are very tasty. He told us how he went about proposing to her (flowers, a trip to the opera, hotel room in Kensington) and how yeah, everyone says it, but when you know, you just know, you know?
Not so much, Matt. I can't say that I do know.
He was lovely, though, and it made my heart swell with butterflies and rainbows seeing him talk about her, and the sickly sweet smile that he couldn't help stretched across his newly engaged face. He said that they had only known each other for six months, but he knew that she was the one he wanted to be with forever.
Forever.
"Were you nervous?" I asked him.
"When I proposed? Oh hell yeah. I've never been more nervous about anything in my life," he said still with his wide smile.
"And you proper got down on one knee and everything?"
"Of course, yeah. There's no other way to do it."
"Did she cry?" I inquired as if I was some kind of wedding journalist.
"Yeah she did."
"Fucking tears of joy. That's just awesome."
I'm not sure why I feel like some kind of internal clock has been switched on inside of me, but recently it feels like I've just been on a man hunt. I've been living here for two years, and the majority of time I've been single. Yes, I've had flings. Yes, I've had one-night stands. Yes, I broke up with Ash after not even being back with him for a month. But for the most part, I've been solo. And I've been cool with that mostly. That's just who I was at the time. I never felt like I "needed" to have a boyfriend or be another half of a couple. I would see my friends argue with their significant others and think, "fucking hell I'm glad I don't have to deal with that shit."
But recently I've been thinking that I wouldn't mind to have someone to bicker about petty things with. It makes me worry, though, because I don't want to come off as one of those disgusting desperate women that needs to be with a man, needs to be in a relationship and desperately needs that attention. I'm not desperate. I don't need any of that. I would just like it. It seems nice. And I kind of miss being on the arm of someone.
One of my worst personality traits, aside from procrastination and hitting people when I get overly excited, is that I'm impatient. I am quite possibly the most impatient person on earth. I know of no such things like "delayed gratification" or "good things come to those who wait." No, I want it now, do you hear me? RIGHT. NOW. And if I don't get it, my head will start swelling until it explodes right off of my shoulders and all over your shirt that is dry clean only. That is how I look at this whole new "development" if you can even call it that: it's not me being "desperate," but rather "impatient". It's not like I can just run down to the shop and pick up the first man that I see and want. They're not puppies.
Although saying that, how cool would it be if you could do that? Just pop down to your local shop and buy a boy/girlfriend? Weird, but cool.
When I was single and wanted to be single, it was easy for me because I was the only person I needed to worry about. When I wanted a warm body, I went out and got one, then swiftly forgot about them the next day as they shut the door. At the time, that's what I wanted. I didn't want anything serious to tie me down. I liked being able to traipse around the city either on my lonesome or with my ladies. Now I don't want that. I want to share my city lover with another person, walk around the city together, go out together, and really be together.
"Enjoy it while it lasts," Matt said to me towards the end of our conversation. "Being single is great, and you're still young. Live it up while you can."
It's true, being single comes with its perks. However, there are quite a few downsides that make it more unattractive when you're in the frame of mind that I've been in for the past couple of weeks. Going out, shoving your way to the bar and fighting off nineteen-year-olds that spill your drink all over your shoes just so they can ask the bartender that they know why he didn't text them back, is no longer joyous for me. It's a pain in the ass and makes me want to take those girls aside and give them a good talkin' to about waiting in line and respecting those that are older than them.