Dear Diary: Lost in cyberland!

Dear diary

31st May 2018

Ok, so I concede – I have ventured back into cyberland dating.  Match.com lured me back with 600 views and 50-odd winks and 10 or so messages.  I got curious so I paid my dues.  Seems I never learn, as my heart sank at more of the same old same old.  I was also seduced to try eHarmony again after reading a press article about a match to marriage within 9 months.  (I guess I should have checked whether it was a sponsored storyline).  This story caught my eye as he was in the UK and she was in the States.  So, distance romance does work then!  Of course, they were in the 30s age bracket and I’m not quite sure a 50-something is going to meet the man of her dreams in this way.  Heck, I can’t even seem to meet the man-not-of-my-dreams.  I am getting a lot of attention from youngsters though – and if they are canny enough, a bit of banter doesn’t go amiss.

Of course, as soon as distance-guy-fake-gate became the reality rather than a possibility, I tapped off a text to my nice looking sex addict.  That reminds me, my new favourite line in response to anyone trying to engage me in sexy chat is:

If I wanted that kind of chat I have a very nice sex addict on speed dial!

Seriously, I actually did use that line yesterday!

I updated my profiles to take out the spikiness in the hopes of sharing that I don’t really hate men, I don’t think they are all fakes, flakes or frogs – but it doesn’t seem to have made much difference so far.  Ok, so it is not quite 12 hours since I paid up – but a girl is ageing by the minute!  Did I just call myself girl?  Hmmm … my sarcastic retort to one guy calling me girl suggests to me that I have linguistic double standards.

So, I wonder what is in store for me?  Instead of feeling excited at the prospect of getting to know a few new people and the possibility of a date or two, or three, I feel decidedly dejected and depressed.  Am I really here again?  Glutton for punishment does not begin to describe it – I really am unsure as to why I am putting myself through this again.

I did check out what is going on locally to see if there was anything I could rock up to that I might come into contact with a few guys – but nada.  It also seems that I need to live in any other town in the UK to find a nice date.  Without exception, all the guys I like the look of are over 200 miles away!  The cynic in me wonders if the dating sites set their algorithms to only show good matches at a distance!

Oh, a lovely interruption there from my sex-addict-guy:

When can I see you?

I do think he is cute, and I do think that he is a much nicer guy than he pretends to be … and maybe one day I will meet up with him.  Certainly the banter does make me feel a little better and is a distraction from my recent disappointment.  I am not convinced though, that he is not already attached.  A nice looking man in his 40s, single?  It doesn’t make sense.  Dallying with another woman’s man is a step too far and not one I intend to breach.  I have challenged him on this a few times and he assures me he is single as:

I’m not very good at relationships.

Hmmm … that may be due to the sex addiction then.   I do believe that we are all, as  individuals, responsible for our own consciences, however, knowing, or even suspecting that a man is in a committed relationship with another woman is a non-negotiable boundary for me.  Dating on the other hand, I don’t have a problem with a guy seeing other women, as long as he has no problem with me seeing other men (I should be so lucky).  After all, initially, dating is about getting to know someone, trying them out, and seeing whether you want to take things further.

So, dear diary, it looks as though I have jumped back into the mire … ahem … ok, so that attitude is not going to attract many dates.  I will be on my best behaviour, and treat it as the tool it is.  No dear diary, I meant the dating sites, not the guys!

I’ll be sure to let you know how I get on.

Later

Carol xOxO

p.s. I will be soooo grateful when I stop seeing “Siggy” when I glance at Mr Dahl’s pictures – one day at a time, I guess.

 

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