So, I’ve been sad. After four weeks of back and forth with the man who I’ll now call ‘The Successful Date’, I finally called time on the repeated failed attempts at setting up a second date.

Even writing this now, I’m sad. Why am I sad? I’m so sad at the perceived loss of The Successful Date.

One fun evening. One morning of sex at my house. Four (plus) weeks of attempting to set up a second date, and repeatedly being told ‘I’d really like to, but I can’t.’

I’m sad because there was so much potential. I’m sad because it feels like a loss. I’m sad because I want a long term relationship, this felt like that chance, and now it’s gone.

There’s things to be positive about. I’m on a study trip (is that a phrase?) in a different part of the country, and I’ve proved to myself that I can travel solo. I can enjoy my own company no matter where I am.

There’s also the massive crush I managed to have on someone who was teaching today. But that’s another story for another day.

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