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October 21st, 2018

I have spent the last few months introspecting my anxiety and flaws. If you can't see them, you can't work on them, and then you become stuck with them.

Whilst being honest and upfront is a good thing, I feel I became too brutal and hurt other people as a way of masking my own hurt and loneliness inside my relationship with Rod. I became angry and aggressive. Worse after a second bottle. It is hard to deal with things when you have been made constantly angry. It also manifests itself in physical ways, my back gets noticeably worse, for example.

So, I have started to balance this in various ways. Cutting down on the wine was easy, and a diet boost too, so a complete win. Usually after a night out, I would come home and have more to drink. Tonight I'm sat here with a coffee, after having had 4 single G&Ts and a glass of red out. I am feeling calm and relaxed, after having spent a a night at a great event with lovely friends. There's very little conflict in my life at the moment.

I have had the opportunity to spend more time with friends. Cementing and building on relationships, sharing. Spoken to, and visited my 'rents more. Repaired the relationship with my lovely dort. That's incredibly important to me.

Dating has been mostly fun too. I haven't found my prince yet, but it's good to get out and meet new people. And of course to be appreciated and wooed. I'm still hopeful about somebody sweeping me off my feet again, but more than happy to have drinks with a few frogs until that happens. I do realise I'm a complete oddity dating-wise, and that it'll take somebody very special indeed to be my match. But I'm in no rush, and I won't settle for second best.

And my relationship with Rod has improved. He is a kind, generous and helpful friend. Qualities it's hard to see when you are being cheated on.

I recognise that I have huge trust issues now. I can only hope my next lover is both loyal and patient. And is willing to give the security we all deserve.

Having been ill all of this week, the house is in dire need of some cleaning. Plus of course the garden needs putting to bed for the winter. So I may pass up on the vintage fair tomorrow and crack on instead. Next week, I really need to get back to the gym, and start thinking about Bangkok stuff.

My homework is to come up with an essay on how amazing I am. It's not something I really want to do. But I can see why.

It's a NO from me!!

So, had several chats with a seemingly very nice guy. 58, lives in Fulham, kinky, very well read and travelled, single, everything really. I already had tickets to Urban Voodoo Machine on Saturday, so I suggested we meet prior to that, and sent him the link. He loved the sound of them and said he'd be happy to come with us. All great, and we carried on chatting.

He had written a book, which he sent to me electronically, and I read, as he said it was mostly biographical. The lead character was a reformed alcoholic, so naturally, I asked. No, no, he said, he had had issues with booze in the past, but limited himself to 3 pints and was fine. Good stuff, I don't mind people who have issues and have tackled them.

I arrive, he's already there and fetches drinks. I glimpse a small bottle of spirits in his inside jacket pocket, alarm bells not ringing, but certainly swaying....First pint, and whatever I don't know about.

We chat. Mostly about him, he talks about him a lot. How intelligent he is, where he's been, what he's done. He tells me several times I'm bright, which I find very patronising. Second pint.

He starts banging on about gangsters (also in the book). His wide boy mockney accent starts to get worse. Third pint. Asks lots of questions about domming although he's claimed to be a switchy Dom. Tells me he's going to put me across his knee. Yeah right!

Salvation as the gang arrive, we all sit down together. Forth pint (remember, he said 3). He asks me if my Dad is a cunt. He slaps my arse 3 times, very uninvited. He goes for a pee 6 times, and we can hear his loud conversations in the toilets from where we're sitting. He interrupts a pool game by taking a cue and making a shot. The mockney deteriorates further. He asks me where my tits are. Swearing like a navvy. He wants another pint, we say no, time to move to the gig venue. He goes to the toilet. I tell the gang he'll catch up, and we leave, leaving him in the toilet. I haven't walked that quick in ages. I know he can't get in without me as it's sold out. Relief. Thank god I'd gone out as part of a crowd!

So, he's a piss head.

And the book is turgid tripe.

And I turned down a 6 week tour of Indochina with him, LMAO!

Luckily, UVM and Gypsys Hotel were excellent, had a bop, loved the alternative people there and spent good times with friends.

So an interesting evening. One I shan't be revisiting :)

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maitressep
Call me Madam

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