2. The Charmer

Whilst at Uni I didn’t let my penchant for outdoor activities fade. I quickly established the local area for gentlemen to meet gentlemen… and being a Garrison town there wasn’t an open community (except for one pub in the middle of nowhere, or the one on campus) but there were plenty of soldiers willing to partake in the small wooded area.

However, that wasn’t where I met him, his name was Martin… he lived locally and was a Sales Manager, and we met through Gaydar. Many people slag off Gaydar but I found it to be entirely useful growing up. Of course there are timewasters and idiots, and I have wasted people’s time and I have been an idiot on there, but come on – this isn’t E-Harmony, and no matter how good my intentions were to meet you if life gets in the way then unfortunately me scratching your itch falls down my priority list.

Anyway, I met with Martin at his house, which was on a posh new estate just outside of town, and when I pulled up onto his drive and he opened his door… my thought process was as follows:
 “Ding, Ding, Ding – we have a winner”
He was tall dark and handsome, he looked young enough, but not too young (I preferred my men older), and he was wearing a well fitted suit. So I stumbled out of my little clapped out Ford Fiesta… and straight into his house. His house was decorated in a minimalist manner, but enough that you could tell a) he had taste, and b) he had money. Now you might say I sound like a gold-digging hussy – but being a poor student makes you appreciate it when someone isn’t scrapping together their last £3 to buy a drink and something to eat.

Martin was everything you could hope for; he was warm, thoughtful, engaging, he seemed to have remembered everything I had said about myself; he was funny too – he seemed so perfect. My heart literally soared – it had seemed so long since I met anyone with any potential for more than just fun, they either all had issues meant for a Trisha show, or they wanted just fun. I hadn’t even realised I was looking, but then as my mind raced ahead I thought the timing was perfect: all of my mates were in couples, and I hadn’t ever had a boyfriend, so here it was, my chance…. My “The One.”

Then he mentioned his boyfriend. Hmmm…

He hadn’t come up before. But it was ok, he went on… “we’re on the rocks, it isn’t working out, I think I will end it soon.” As suddenly as the clouds had come, they seemed to be drifting away… my scenarios for bagging Martin suddenly became more involved but twice as exciting. I would help him get over his boyfriend, I wouldn’t be needy like his boyfriend, I wouldn’t be flaky and rubbish like his boyfriend, and I would be super boyfriend.

Needless to say after great throw-you-round-the-bedroom intimate times I left walking on air….

I told pretty much every person that stood next to me for more than ten seconds about Martin, and how he would be the love of my life… I was actually euphoric. Bad times.

Needless to say he was careful– he was busy a lot he told me, he a boyfriend he told me, and he worked away a lot he told me… so when he said he couldn’t often text or call I took it as valid. He was sorry, and said he would always text when he was free. No worries… I was young, cool, busy with Uni… I wasn’t in love with him, we had met once… I am easy breezy.

So why I clutched my mobile with new vigor and virtually burnt holes into it with my eyes waiting for it to buzz, ring, anything?

And when he did text I was on a high… a literal high. His opener was always a fairly standard “Hi, How are you?” but what do I care… he text.

We met all of 5 or 6 times before he literally stopped. Just stopped. His G’dar profile hadn’t been touched, no text, no calls… I did ring him one night when drunk and it just rang out. Sadly I was too busy pretending to not care to realise I was devastated and taking it out on all men that I then met. I chewed them up and spat them out – always thinking “You’re not Martin.”

Anyway, some time passed, and I pushed it to the back of my mind, and then there I was at the local cruising ground… I mean stomping ground… and who was just pulling up in his Audi. Literally my heart snapped straight back to where I was before, I thought this is it. His phone obviously died so he couldn’t text me back, he broke up with his boyfriend, and now he is ready to move on … all of this in the split second it took to see him emerging from his car. By the time he walked up to me I was already planning our China set, and the seating plan for The Wedding.

So I kind of expected him to say… “lets go back to mine” but he didn’t, instead he got his rocks off, we exchanged numbers again as I had recently got a new phone, and he was walking away with a quick “catch you again soon hopefully.” – Hmmm, might have to put that China set on hold.

But sadly as the moments ticked by my heart started justifying everything, he had only popped there for a quick meet, he was a busy bloke, he probably had the boyfriend at home… and the following day I got the usual “Hi, How are you?” text so basically I thought “Game On” – I win.

Sadly for my poor naïve heart I had recently changed my phone from a pay-as-you-go to a contract… and that old phone was still running… and oddly the message was on both phones… “Hi, How are you?” … I immediately justified it that he had two Liam’s in his phonebook so just sent it to both… but my pride was niggling me… could it be? Could he be sending out a generic text to a whole ream of men from his little black book? I sent him replies from both, timed apart, and replying slightly differently. He came back to both, with slightly different messages but clearly looking to make arrangements to meet both … and I was devastated. As the messages went back and forth (as I wasn’t going to stop) it was clear that it was all pretty much a lie, in one I mentioned the boyfriend, in another I said “how is single life” – he replied to both with a pack of lies….

This called for revenge. I am not going to tell you what I did for libel reasons, and because I might need to use it again someday. But sufficed to say I felt better. But that was the day that I learnt that even the best of us – the hard nosed promiscuous types – can be a fool for Love (or Lust).