You're Ugly, You're Old And You're Bloody Irritating...

...
Geddit? You clicked in because you thought it was someone saying it to me, right? Nah! Or me saying it to someone else. Also nah. But...

Oh my word! Remember this, followed by this, culminating in this? Well, the emails kept on a-comin’ until I finally got heartily sick of 'em.

I am quite sure the initial ‘flick off’ was clear, elegant-ish, and, as far as I’m concerned, quite kind really. This was not enough. Either it’s a Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus moment, or else it goes way beyond that and he is, after all, mildly deranged, a psychopathic stalker a very needy person. Or, as someone more generous than I pointed out, he just fancies me. 

I told him that:

• We really didn’t have enough in common for me to imagine a relationship
• I could not envisage him in most of my life’s scenarios
• While I enjoyed his company for a very long and arduous day, merely feeling OK in someone’s company was not in itself sufficient to make me want to seek more, particularly with the life I lead.  

OK, I phrased it all slightly better than that, but that was the gist.

He got back to me with the vast number of things we have in common. (Er… that’ll be two. Two things which I would be happy to do perhaps up to three times a year; I've since learned he does them week in week out.) He then told me (note TOLD me) that he knew exactly why I was putting him off: I was merely afraid of having a physical relationship with him and that I need not worry because he is a patient man. (Well, yes, good grief! He’d have to be very, very, very patient if he expected me to get into bed with him. When is Armageddon exactly? Let me just shake off that little spinal shiver there… woueghph!)  Oh yes, and that in fact he’d been in a similar situation before, and the lady in question (not boasting, he said, just the reality) ended up telling him he was a wonderful lover. Good for her! Then there was a pile of nonsensical stuff about my thinking my family and children might get in the way and that I should not sacrifice my happiness for theirs; I should follow my feelings. How I love these "Should Scenarios"...

What feelings would they be then? Because the only feeling I am aware of at this point is that I am right royally fromaged off with this whole business. Go away, you irritating little mouche!

Anyway, I think he has finally got the message now. I did it to the very best of my ability without actually saying the F word accompanied by an O and a further 2 Fs; I'm tellin' ya - it ain't easy. Diplomatic and proud! Sign me up for the Foreign Office! 

Fortunately, I'm going into prolonged seclusion shortly, back to the convent for a little downtime where the internet is only available intermittently and that’s only if I can smuggle in my laptop and keep it concealed under the wafer-thin mattress. I might be able to post the odd few words in the dead of night when Sisters Marie-Claude, Clothilde and Bernadette are busy whittling candles, but I can't promise - depends on their level of concentration during the process - ya know what I'm sayin'. The likelihood of an inspiring male turning up (except for the obvious one and that's, erm, kind of blasphemous...) is minimal; however, I can get reception on my phone there, so - with any luck - Stella might have something to tell me which I can pass on to her enormous fan club. 


Might just catch you before I go. Kiss, kiss, hug, hug and all that palaver. :)