The Ghost of Le Bohemian

Good day to you, fellow soul searchers…

It is at this point of my blogging and perhaps at the point of my “dating life” with Le Spaniard that I feel the need to introduce you to Le Bohemian. 

The restless, tortured soul captivated me and stole my heart this time last year. I met him online and he was living in a city close to me at the time. We agreed on everything. Everything. He loved the same music as me, the same era as me, the same vibe as me, the same lifestyle as me, the same films as me; he was as cool as hell and quirky and exciting and had this amazing Liam Gallagher aura about him… 

And the first night we met, we went to this seriously amazing bar in the notorious bohemian, eclectic part of the city. It had a film night in the garden! All night he was an exciting bundle of nerves. I learned of his anxiety issues that he was dealing with at the time. We spoke until closing time, and then we found an all night cafe and sat up talking with hot chocolate until the early hours of the morning. We could talk about anything. It felt… Refreshing. 

We met up again on my birthday a few days later and again it was wonderful. For a few weeks it was bliss, hindered only by his job that required him to work nights at short notice, pretty much anywhere in the country. Sometimes our dates required rescheduling and he would call me as he was about to go into work, and sometimes I’d wake the next morning to a video message he would do for me around 2am while he was taking his break. 

Another thing I liked about Le Bohemian; he did things by phone call. Sure, he’d text and whatnot, but when arranging to meet, he’d call me and ask me if I’d like to “go to dinner?”

If there are any gentlemen reading this, take it from me, CALL HER UP RIGHT NOW AND TELL HER YOU’D LIKE TO TAKE HER FOR DINNER! Honestly, it’s guaranteed to bring a smile to her face. Because more likely than not, she’s probably never arranged a date over the phone, or she’s never been asked to dinner the old fashioned courteous way. Try it. Be courtly, it’s nice. We like it. 

Anyway, to cut a 3 month story short, I fell way too deep, too soon, too hard. I’ll be completely honest; I was completely head over heels for this fella… I felt he was my reason for breathing, my soulmate, my one etc etc blah blah blah. 

He began to be fed up with work calling him and disrupting our plans. He got fed up of feeling so trapped in the life he was in, he was fed up of all the anxiety he constantly felt. 

One day, he called me during my lunch hour and told me that he’d walked out of work and he’d packed all his things up into his car and was heading for Torquay. Told me he couldn’t work for the man anymore and be tied down to a flat. 

I knew he needed to get his head together, especially after walking out of his job, so I left him to it, but Bonfire weekend he called me while I was in the bath on the Saturday evening, crying his eyes out and telling me he felt so alone and depressed… I jumped out of the bath, throwing some clothes on and drove for almost 5 hours to Torquay, arriving at 11pm. He was amazed anyone could do something so nice for him… And we had a wonderful night and Sunday. He told me he felt okay when I was around, and for a couple of days afterward, but then the negativity would begin to bring him down again. 

I left him on the Sunday and we saw eachother for my friends birthday, and then a couple of weeks later, it was all over. He wasn’t emotionally equipped to deal with a relationship. 

I was devastated.

I couldn’t breathe.

I couldn’t eat. I lost a stone.

My eyes were completely vacant all the time.

I couldn’t go on for another minute feeling this wretched.

I cried all the time.

I felt sick and worried and I constantly re-read the messages we’d sent, trying to pinpoint the exact point “I’d” mucked it up (course, I never mucked it up).

At work I felt numb, and then at lunchtimes I would cry to my closest colleague.

That Christmas and New Year I was so miserable I could barely muster the strength to get out of bed.

Of course, I then went on and did the worst thing and jump straight into a rebound relationship with Le Modfather.

But anyway. Feeling the way I felt after Le Bohemian is something I never want to experience ever again. It was the 3rd time anyone had really got underneath my skin – most of the people I meet and it doesn’t work out with, I can shrug it off easily, but once in a while (Le Emo and Le Indieboy when I was 22, but maybe I’ll tell you that story at a later date) they really know what buttons to press to provide a piece of your heart to them. Le Bohemian is one of those rare men.

Fast forward to today, sitting at work and having one of those horrible moments of clarity: I’m getting this feeling that I’m falling far too soon, too hard and too quickly for Le Spaniard.

And it scares the hell out of me. 

I worry that he’s not feeling as much as me. I’m worried that I run away with my feelings and daydreams far too much that it clouds my reality, especially while I’m messaging him. And then when I become aware of this, I worry that I’m being overly “clingy/pushy/needy/insert desperate adjective here”. I then second guess all of his messages and then I find it difficult to know how to respond. And then I end up reading stupid articles that tell me that I should never respond to a message unless there is a question.. Which in that case as Le Spaniard and I just talk rather than ask eachother questions, I’d never be able to respond to him. Then I end up stressing and thinking that maybe because he doesn’t ask me questions, maybe he doesn’t really want to talk with me at all! Agh!

Speaking with my Best Male Mate (BMM) this afternoon I concluded that I had two choices; that I could quit while I was ahead, not go to Manchester and only be “hurt” by myself, but always wonder “what if…?”… Or, I could keep going down the rabbit hole and risk the burrow collapsing on itself and crushing me yet again. 

My BMM asked the best question to me: “would you regret not trying though?”

To which I responded “that’s the problem. I wouldn’t be able to live with the regret.”

And so, down the Rabbit Hole I must keep wandering, it seems!

As always, it’s been a pleasure, treasure… Until next time

Elle

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