How blind is love?

Like really, how blind can it really be?

After having a couple of glasses of prosecco with a friend recently, she finally felt comfortable enough to tell me about her latest love interest:

The basics

  • Met on Tinder
  • 24
  • Works in construction
  • Lives with his brother
  • Best sex she’d ever had

So after she divulged those pieces of crucial information and gave me the break down of her fun filled weekend with him, I asked him if she knew his surname. I expected after her initially meeting him on the Friday, sleeping with him and then spending the rest of Saturday and Sunday curled up in bed watching movies, shagging and going on the odd food run, she would obviously have to know his surname!!!

I was wrong-her reply to me: ‘I’ll ask him when I see him this weekend’

1st mental alarm goes off

One of my follow up questions after the obviously very absurd surname one was

‘Has he had a relationship before?’

‘Yes he was in a relationship before for 6 years’

Wow he can do comittment 

‘Only downfall’ she continues ‘he has a kid’

Now you would think my 2nd mental alarm of the conversation would be sounding right about now, but it wasn’t, I, myself have dated a guy with not just one kid but 2 kids before, and in this day and age its not the most unheard of thing in the world, besides ‘everyone comes with baggage’ I tell her.

She continues to spout about how she really likes him and can see this going somewhere, she cannot find one single thing that puts her off. And in my head my pessimistic personality sighs too good to be true. I then try and gently bring her back down to earth from the cloud 9 she’s firmly been lounging on for the last few days. I tell her to be cautious, keep her options open and keep him guessing, play the game and he’ll be eating out of her hand. I know all of this tested and good advice is not being listened to, but I have to do my ‘part’.

Back to business. A few days later she WhatsApp’s me and tells me she’s seen him again (earlier than expected) never seem to eager I think to myself.

‘Madison, there’s a catch with this guy, he is going to court on Monday’

‘What for’ I wait patiently but inside I’m itching to know and willing it not to be rape or murder, from what she has already told me of this kid he sounds a bit psychotic.

‘GBH’ she’s typing

‘He asked me to wait for him’

Wow! Just wow! I have no words at this point, so I quickly dart offline.

Which brings me to the present.

In my mind my thought process is: you met him last weekend, you have spent a maximum of 72 hours with the kid (at a push), yes he’s the best sex you’ve ever had but you’re hardly a playboy bunny, you haven’t had enough sex with enough people to know what good sex even is. In a normal world this would send any single girl with half a brain cell in their head running, but no! Oxytocins are involved and this is why you’re actually considering WAITING FOR HIM.

Either love is blind or girls are morons, or love exists and I have never experienced it.

Doubt it, I’d go with the second one, my pessimistic mind screams.




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