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.




So there’s this boy

Don’t all good ‘love’ stories start with that sentence, however this is not what one would call your typical ‘love story’. I would call it more something along the lines of a friends with benefit setup, with some added blurred lines thrown in for good measure.

So let’s start with his name, for all intense and purpose we shall call him ‘James’. We met off a dating site some may be familiar with, the name of it I will not disclose due to girl paranoia problems. As I was saying we met on a dating site about a year ago and arranged to meet the same day (spontaneous and dangerous I know, but I was having a ‘you only live once moment’). I met him in a pub close to his house, we hit it off and he invited me back to his place for a nightcap. The conversation was flowing, he was interesting, charming, a bit taller than me, brown hair, blue eyes, well presented and seemed like a nice young gentleman. We spoke about our jobs, family, friends all the general first meet-up chit-chat. He was a breath of fresh air amongst the pungent men I would usually meet. It was all going so well…

Let me explain now that I had NO and I mean ZERO intentions of sleeping with this man. Every girl knows that sleeping with someone on the first date is a SERIOUS no go! But something happened, whilst we were casually sipping wine and talking on his sofa. James got up and walked over to a piano in the corner of the living room, that I had absolutely failed to notice upon entering his place. He placed himself ever so gracefully on the seat and invited me to come and sit next to him, insisting he wanted to play me something. Now I had no idea he could even play, the topic of musical instruments never cropped up in our ‘tell me about yourself’ chats. Like most girls I’m a sucker for a guy that plays an instrument but that is pretty limited to either a guitar, drums or a piano, so upon sitting down next to him I could literally feel my googly eyes enlarging!

He began to play, his fingers skillfully caressing the black and white keys. The tune hit me and converted me back into a small child looking at posters of 90’s pop-stars, longingly wishing they would pick me out in a crowd and marry me. I was utterly in awe watching him and embarrassingly turned on. He was playing the ‘fish tank song’ from Romeo and Juliet( Leo Dicap version) otherwise known as ‘Kissing you’ by Des’ree.


It could just be me, but I knew then and there I was going to sleep with him, I do believe any girl in my position wouldn’t have been able to resist either.

Upon finishing he turned to me and kissed me ever so delicately, clasping the side of my neck. I couldn’t resist I pulled away and went in for an almighty shameful game of tonsil tennis. He then took my hand and led me to the bedroom, he pushed me down on the bed, forceful was not a side I’d anticipated with him, but it was a pleasant surprise. He pulled out a blue tie from his top chest of drawers. I have no idea what he is doing as I’m vanilla experienced in the bedroom department. He didn’t say a thing, walked towards me and gently lifted my arms above my head and tied them together, he instructs me to keep them there. Very 50 shades, but I was so blinded with excitement I couldn’t speak. You know what happens next…

I had the best sex of my life that night.


to be continued….




First off I should probably address the fact that starting a blog isn’t a promising sign of mine or any successful single life. However I’m a firm believer of everyone needs an outlet, and this will be mine. This blog will soon become a place to release my fears, frustrations, woes, encounters, and my somewhat secret thoughts that I can’t bring myself to tell any living breathing person.

I hope someone enjoys it….



Welcome to my blog.

I do not expect to enlighten anyone with any new information on being single, just simply looking to use this blog as an outlet to share my personal experiences.

So please bare with me as I get the hang of the ‘blogging world’ and I’m sure someone out there will enjoy what I have to say 😉