Erm...

Posted by Lucy Robinson at 22:43 on 14 Jun 2010

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In 2006 I met a man who I thought was amazing in just about every respect. He was so amazing that I presumed, often, that it was all just a weird dream. I spoke about him in hushed tones; I was rendered mute and immobile for the first hour in his presence and I even went back to his house for hide-the-sausage on our first date which is not something I had ever done until that moment. I was literally dumbstruck that a man of his calibre could possibly have any interest in me. It was like beauty and the beast only the wrong way round.

After a while, of course, he stopped calling me. I knew it had all been a bit of a fluke! Of course he wasn’t interested!

My housemate, however, felt otherwise. “He’ll be back in touch,” she said firmly. “He won’t,” I replied like an obstinate child. She smiled tolerantly and said “Trust me. They always, always, ALWAYS get back in touch. Men never just disappear into the ether.”

She was right. He did get back in touch, and since then I’ve managed to get through many an oh-my-god-my-life-is-over-he-hasn’t-called moments with her advice ringing in my ear. Never once has she been proved wrong.

Toothgate was no exception. Edward did, of course, get back in touch, with a perfectly plausible explanation for his sudden disappearance and with a great amount of enthusiasm for our date on Thursday.

However. I decided, after a good long think, that it would not be fair to meet him. I responded to say that although I was really up for our non-murderous coffee, I felt that it was the wrong thing to do.

Why? Because in nine days I am going to do something completely insane.

I am staging a midlife crisis and moving to Argentina.

I told you it was insane.

I’ll explain why I’m doing this, and what I’m going to be doing, in my next blog, but for now I feel I should say sorry. Not because in some rather warped and narcissistic moment I have convinced myself that you will be bereft and distraught without twice-weekly updates from my stupid love life, but simply because I should have told you before. Forgive me!

As a dating blogger one feels compelled to talk only about affairs of the heart. Which has been quite strange for me over the last few months because my work life and personal life have been undergoing some fairly seismic shifts. But if I’m completely honest, I didn’t announce my planned departure to you because I didn’t really believe it was going to happen.

Now I do. And I am sh*tting it!

But anyway, about this blog. I have no plans to stop writing it. It’s not like my hunt for an awesome man will end as soon as I leave the country. On the contrary, I have it all planned out:

1. My first affair will be with a passionate Porteno (resident of Buenos Aires, which is where my trip begins) who I will meet at a World Cup football match. Our eyes will meet across a crowded stadium and it will be love at first sight. We will drink Malbec and eat steak in a distinctly sexual manner in small restaurants down cobbled streets while the strains of distant tango music waft gently in on the warm breeze. We will not be able to understand each other very well, because my Spanish is still pretty crap, but my goodness we will understand each other well enough when it comes to matters of amor. The affair will end when the World Cup finishes and he disappears back off to his day job. And, knowing my luck, to his wife.

2. My next affair will take place in Mendoza. This affair is based directly on the novels of Jilly Cooper and will involve a man with dark eyes, firm thighs and an indefatigable love of polo and sex. It will end when we have a passionate argument and try to run each other over with horses.

3. Following on from this affair will be a period of solitude and pensiveness, during which I will consider the error of my ways and travel south into the beautiful wilds of Patagonia. There I will meet a man called Prairie or Fig or Daybreak or something. He will probably be a bit too young for me but my old age will excite him (for a while at least) and we will develop an intense love. We will sit under a tree in the late afternoon heat and he will write beautiful haiku poetry on deerskin parchment while I knock out Marie Claire blogs about him on my ageing Toshiba. I will not deserve him; he will realise this and I will be alone once more, contemplating my next affair.

4. Actually, I don’t know what the next affair is yet. Let’s wait and see.

Er, so yes, there we have it. I shall endeavour to explain this better in my next blog. Thanks for your understanding, my dear friends.

Yours, in madness,

Robinson X

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