Day #16: Frequent lover
She invited me casually, saying that she had some sort of rewards she had to use and that it would have amounted to a nice British Airways flight in busine…
She invited me casually, saying that she had some sort of rewards she had to use and that it would have amounted to a nice British Airways flight in business class, however there was a deadline and she would have missed on the freebie if she didn't act upon it. I was quite inebriated from that bottle of Malbec that I had chugged but also quite mellow in my post-sex nirvana mode.
A coast to coast trip to the US. It was definitely on my checklist. She had found an organized one for British people, with a tour guide and all but also with a couple of days of "freedom" here and there.
"These trips must have been well-suited for older people" I said ungratefully but, after having noticed her face I added "But it's very nice of you to think about me for this and, I don't know, not your sister for example". "Her? No way! I hate you way more than her" she replied, boasting her beautiful smile and cuddling me in the meantime.
Yeah, she was trying to get close to me, under my skin. It had been about three months but even if she had to come over to Marylebone from Harrow and it took her about an hour, she was very often at my place. I had to sneak her in since house rules allowed guests only one night a week. The landlady was trying to control the influx of strangers, it made sense. My buddy and I were doing numbers. It was a good deal for me because I liked her, logistically it just worked, I could save money on going out because often she brought stuff for us to indulge on in bed, she came for me and viceversa... it was a good deal for both I guess. On weekends we would go out somewhere nice and end up home anyway. I had to cook breakfast on weekends, I learnt how to cook eggs in various ways, to eat avocado and embarrassingly also to cook halloumi cheese, which once I had served raw and gave a bite to, feeling like I was eating rubber covered in plastic.
I had started to notice that she had left some items to mark the territory. I had a deal with my flatmate to share the responsibility of covering each other asses with our girls. We each had a cardboard box in which put the girls stuff, after having taken pictures to put it back where it was almost exactly. I would hand it over to him and viceversa.
"That's my flatmate stuff, I am so annoyed! He broke up but his girlfriend still hasn't come to pickup her things... to be fair, he has a similar box of mine in his room, I will have to ship it or something at some point" was our line more or less.
Eventually, the amount of stuff became so voluminous that he sat me down for a night cup of scotch that he had with a cigar, I just had a square of dark chocolate with it.
"Dude, it's over. She is moving in. You gotta set boundaries or I got news for you... you have a fiancée. Next, she's gonna talk you into moving in together, going for a trip somewhere and bs like that. You have been warned! I am not seeing other girls lately, so you must be into her, I just want you to be aware of that too"
My dear Dutch womanizer friend almost nailed it to perfection. She had indeed told me also that she wanted to move out from her home, she was still living with her parents and her younger sister... She had a serious relationship with her high-school but he ended up cheating on her, something like that. "And you start dating an Italian dude after that?" her sister told her repeatedly. "He's my Italian dude" she replied proudly.
Nails on chalkboard that also turn you on. Weird stuff.
Experience makes you see the future, especially in other people's lives.
She was my first exclusive relationship in my initial rebound phase after my second breakup for the same reason: I was working too much, she felt like having sex everyday, sometimes multiple times to once every week or about that was the beginning of the end. A downgrade. I didn't love her anymore. Or maybe it was more profound, she saw me passionate about something else that wasn't her.
"You are gonna dump me once you become successful, it's just a matter of time" she had told me a few times... red flags masked as flattering words. I just didn't know how to interpret them back then.
She also had free time, she was hitting the gym and the dudes at the gym were hitting on her, until a personal trainer hit her for real. I had found out by doing something I never did before, she was the jealous one, for once I was the one checking her phone. She wasn't expecting it and...
Boom. Busted.
Anyway, I guess you have to try everything in life and being cheated on is a great movie, I recommend! As a man, your character is tested and you better behave in your self-interest otherwise you are doomed.
I chose to not forgive and I threw her out of our flat, well, our room since we were sharing with other people back then as well. She had to move country, to complicate things, it was a mess but I didn't care. It was her own problem now. I had stopped caring. It was over. Five years gone. After a few days of sadness, I went full throttle to working and working out. I got promoted and I became ripped. I was in my top shape and I started hitting on girls of all colors and backgrounds.
Clichè rebound manwhoring.
She was a British lady, nordic looking, a bit taller than me, slim, curves in the right spots but also fake tan, gluten intolerance and other quirks. She came from money so I wasn't worried about the fact that she was with me because of my status. I was not wealthy but I was in that phase where I was flashing a lot given that I was working between hedge funds, trading houses and living in Central London. I also liked showing that I was Italian and also my body, I am not gonna lie. Being taken for a professional escort while waiting for my date was both a compliment and a degrading thing. Being treated as a piece of meat was new as well, different kind of movie from being cheated on but it gets boring after a while.
"Oh, so is this how women feel like?" I wondered while swiping on my dating apps -plural.
Sex was great with her, she completely gave herself to me and made me feel like a real man, hard to explain but the closest thing is imagining a majestic feline turning into a house cat looking for cuddles. "She cursed me" I thought, remembering her profile picture dressed like a slutty witch. We had so much of it that she thought I was addicted to it, well, maybe. I was just hungry for that extra kill up until blood came out of me, literally.
I didn't have a passport yet, the UK was still part of the EU but I needed it to go to the US. I used that excuse to pull the handbrake on our trip and consequently our relationship.
"Did you book your appointment at the Consulate? Please don't be lazy, I need to book everything, I am waiting for you!" she asked concerned. "I will, I am just so busy with work lately" I replied thinking if I should have replied to my DMs on Tinder and Bumble and POF and Match.
Long story short, I didn't go, we were still technically together but I took the opportunity of the distance to detox from her.
Clichè rebound manwhoring, speedrun edition.
I had started my career as heartbreaker, I didn't like it so I became more selective, I favoured the hot ones that wanted the same thing as me, better if they already had something going on, no string attached. I had my bi-weekly STD check appointment even if I always used protection, I was ordering them in bulk.
I was going through women like a bulimic person would go through premium chocolates and cakes. Was I sick?
One day, clicking on a Google Photo notification, I saw a picture of her in the US, alone. She looked great and surely that could have been the picture that made her match with somebody else. I wished her all the best. I didn't join her on that trip, I got my passport post Brexit, without any specific reason or subconsciously to grow balls whenever a similar trip was presented to me and behave more like a man. Or maybe, I should invite a girl for a trip if I like her, worse that can happen we have a good time, best that can happen... it doesn't work between us and goodbye and thank you.
