I’m nearly 51 years old. It has been around eight years since I’ve been in a relationship. I have only really ventured back into the world of dating in the last 12 months because it took me that long to feel ready again after aforementioned previous relationship. I have learned more in the last 12 months about dating—if you could call it that—than I have in all my 40ish years of dealing with boys and men. And I don’t like what I’ve learned. I’ve learned that things out there are ugly. Really ugly. Maybe it’s the demographic* I’m dealing with, or
Continue reading...I was going to publish this post last week, but I didn’t. Instead I wrote about kindness; however, I was not treated kindly or respectfully in return. And I’m in no mood to be generous. So screw it: published it now is. Regular readers will know that I’ve been having an “interesting” time over the last few months, romantically speaking. Of course, the phrase “romantically speaking” assumes that romance is involved, which it isn’t, although I thought there might have been. But there wasn’t. All I got was a Big Fat Head Fuck. Let me recap for new readers. Last
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