I wrestled with writing this post and whether to even post it. It took a few drafts and edits.
In the nearly 10 years of writing this blog (award nominated I’ll have you know), I never thought I’d be writing a post about my embarrassing and completely unhinged behaviour.
But here we are.
So strap in.
One of my closest friends got married. It was the most beautiful ceremony in Cyprus. The outside beautiful stone and cobble area was lined with green and white. They were the most beautiful couple. She was an absolute vision of beauty.
The sun was shining, the drinks were flowing and the sweat was dripping!
On everybody.
I’d already been told there were three single men at the wedding. There were also three single women.
Me being me and thinking what I think about myself, I figured none of the three would be interested in me.
Turns out: I might have been wrong.
The open bar probably had a very large part to play in all of this story. It actually had a huge part.
Naughty open bar.
Telling myself I would only have two or three drinks suddenly became very attentive waiters refilling my drinks all too often. I guess that’s what you want when you pay for a wedding though. Good staff.
I can highly recommend.
Anyway.
In order to get to the wedding venue, a coach was organised from a hotel near my accommodation. One of the eligible bachelors was also there.
Robert*.
He came over to me while we were waiting for the coach and said,
“You look really pretty in that dress”.
It was such a beautifully sincere compliment that seemingly came out of nowhere; that I couldn’t help but smile.
After the ceremony, Robert and I ended up having a conversation for a bit.
Drink.
Dinner happened.
More drink.
People started dancing and the bouncy castle was set up.
Oh good God, more drink.
Every time my glass emptied, a new, full one replaced it.
I don’t remember a huge amount of the latter part of the night but I remember the drink.
And the talking to Robert.
Cut a long story short, I ended up going back to his hotel room.
Think what you want about me but I’m a single woman in my thirties and, well, fuck it!
Robert was lovely. He was very respectful and I felt so at ease with him.
Until something happened.
I don’t know what happened.
Robert did not hurt me. He didn’t do anything to cause this. Just to make that very clear.
Something happened and because of the alcohol, I don’t remember what. I cannot pinpoint exactly the catalyst. I have a vague idea; a hazy recollection.
But suddenly, out of nowhere I started crying.
There was a moment where I had a disgustingly timed rush of emotion suddenly just all bubble up to the surface.
I sat on the end of a stranger’s bed in a hotel in Cyprus, wrapped in a sheet and sobbed.
So this post isn’t about something bad a man did. This post is about something I did.
And it was bad.
All of the nicknames that my friends and I had for previous guys like Dry Boy and No Teeth. Now, here I was; Cry Girl.
I did the (I guess funny story) thing. This time, it was me who created a crazy story about completely unhinged behaviour.
I’d like to remind you, I was completely hammered. But I was still aware and I was still able to give consent.
What I didn’t realise is that I would suddenly become completely overwhelmed with whatever was happening in my head. I tried so hard to stop crying. I really tried to hold it all back.
But then Robert rubbed my back and told me everything was ok.
Well, that just made me cry more! Probably with so much embarrassment at what was unfolding.
What. The. Actual. Fuck.
I cried. Ugly cried.
And this poor guy, just hoping for a one night stand at his mate’s wedding just sat there with me and told me it was ok. To let it all out. He must have been thinking he wanted to make a girl wet but not due to uncontrollable tears!
He cuddled me for fuck sake.
Robert genuinely attempted to make me feel that what I was doing in that moment was completely normal behaviour.
It’s like, in that moment, I suddenly just had this overwhelming realisation at how shit my life is. At how desperately unhappy I am, a lot of the time. At how everyone on the outside tells me how great my life looks all the time. The reality is not so.
The realisation that no matter how much I scream how unhappy I am or how shit life is, nobody believes me. They see my social media and wish for my life. One person even tried to tell me once that I was ungrateful for feeling loneliness because they were desperate for time away from their responsibilities.
I’ve spent so long holding everything in and pretending everything is good. Here I was, with a stranger (God, I really am so sorry Robert), just crying about it all and suddenly opening some sort of Pandora’s Box of emotion.
Of all the people to let this out to. It was him.
I didn’t mean for it to be. Hell knows I didn’t want it to be him!
But it was.
It’s such a shame because if he’d asked me to meet up again at home, I would have liked to. I would have liked to have seen him again.
Let’s be honest, I don’t think that’s going to happen now.
In the morning I got dressed and as I pulled my giant control pants back on under my dress I told him I call them the man repellers and he laughed and replied
“Well they clearly didn’t work did they?”
Ergh, he’s even funny too!
I think we can all agree that the crying was probably the most effective repellent on this occasion.
I’ve never got out so quickly to get a taxi back to my apartment. Of course in my wedding guest outfit. With sunglasses to cover my tired and very hungover eyes. The taxi driver looked at me and said
“My god wow! You look absolutely beautiful! Where are you going?”
In that split second I knew I couldn’t tell the truth. I was doing the stride of pride but with much less pride. So I lied and told him I was going to a wedding but meeting my friend to finish getting ready.
Luckily, he believed me.
So Robert was a tale shorter than I had hoped.
I’ll be the butt of whatever jokes amongst his friends and the guys from the wedding. I’ll be the story he can tell when it comes to the funniest or worst ‘date’ stories. For that night, I became the thing I write about on here.
I might just be the blog post.
Leave a Reply