Dating in earnest

I've been dating.
For a year, on and off, I've been dating.

Some have been ok for a while.
The manic depressive -the 'lovely man' who I had a lot of sex with for 3 weeks. Like, a lot of sex. Good sex. When we weren't having sex, we were in bed giggling.
The boy - who, might have been perfect if we weren't both gagging to be the one being... gagged.
And others.


But none of them have fit.
None of them have felt like home.

Some have - in writing sounded lovely... but in the flesh.... it's never the voice I want to hear.
They all seem like little boys to me. My man, M, he's gone.

I talk, I listen, I joke and enjoy myself, but all I'm waiting for is M's laugh. And it never comes. Because I left him.
Because I broke his heart.
And in doing so, I broke mine.

And now no one measures up. Not anywhere near.

But, it doesn't stop me from trying.
Once more into the breach, dear friends.

I'm trying out internet dating again.

Last week, a nice jewish boy who's a hypnotherapist (maybe he could stop me nail-biting..)
This week, a man-boy with beautiful dimples who works for Ben & Jerry's (i might get ice cream...)
Earlier today, a 6'3 hippy fireman with a rugby player's build and bare feet (a fireman... oh, come on. Allow me one classic fantasy...)
And in an hours time, an attractive older man with greying dredlocks who asked for my number today in the library. I know. Honestly. Who pulls in a library? *high fives self* I impressed myself with that one!


Maybe one of them will chase away the dream I had last night where M was reading a list of reasons he wanted me back, and I sobbed and sobbed so hard I couldn't kiss him when he asked.

Dear love.
Please leave me and my hurting brain alone.