As we enter a new year, Laura Reynolds looks at how the dating game differs from previous generations.
Laura Reynolds looks at the freedoms of festive singledom
Join Jason Rose for a peek behind today's door.
Lauren Tabbron writes about the difficulties of spending Christmas away from a loved one.
He could have sent me a text. He could have Facebooked me. He could have gone all year 2000 on me and just sent an email! But no, “A special delivery bra-o-gram for Felicity” was his return method of choice, and it was this insane behaviour that consumed my thoughts for longer than I'd care to admit.
As I say, it seems obvious now that this is what happened, but at the time I genuinely thought he had come to my block and slept with another girl, and that my bra being on the doormat was some extraordinary side effect of this man-whorishness.
It’s amazing how your feelings for the opposite sex can become so wildly escalated just at the point when it is most obvious that they will be unrequited. When I left his room, I genuinely thought it was a casual one night stand. I thought we could be mature about things, and wave as we passed each other on the quad, and that maybe, if we passed each other in Ziggy’s, we might have a casual, stress-free sequel.
But as soon as the bra incident happened I went mad. It might have been causal to me, but he had taken it to the next level. There’s casual, and then there’s insulting. In my confused state I felt humiliated.
I could see his block from my bedroom window. I could see his kitchen window. I could see the bit where all the smokers – of which he was one – sat and lit up. I avoided bumping into him, and every time I spied him from afar I felt sick. How could I have had so little self-respect as to sleep with a boy like that?
My mind went wild hypothesising every time I saw any female walking towards his block or leaving it in the morning. Had he met her last night? Had he known her a while? Were they going out? Did he love her? Was he going to treat her as he had treated me, and go and sleep with someone else straight away? Was she even anything to do with him? So many boys in that block, and yet every girl that left it I assumed was something to do with him.
I hated every girl I saw there, and I hoped that he’d break their hearts. I couldn’t tolerate the idea of anything else. Why them and not me?
This madness took me through to the end of term and when I left for the Christmas holidays all I could think was what a relief it was to have three weeks during which I would not be overlooking his block, and during which my mind could have a rest. I could come back a start over. A new year, a new me. No more Dirtbag. To hell with it! New Year’s resolution: no more boys!
Just as bad as your last article
#1
No need to be rude, lad (or lass).
And it's bad why? I'd say it's quite well written. The subject matter is a little risqué, but not overly controversial and handled crassly.
The subject matter is a little risqué?
To be fair, much better than the last article. Very much improved. Glad to see the Dirtbag side of the story has been dropped too. Still not a huge fan of the genre, but pretty good stuff!
Dirtbag will be back with a vengeance...
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