I loathe flat hunting. I always feel quite excited at the prospect of finding another new girly pad and wonder whether I'll finally find the high-ceilinged, open-fireplaced apartment I wish for that is (miracle of miracles) within my budget. It's only after I've been dragged around the first mucky-carpeted mildew-bathroomed hovel by a letting agent eight years younger than me and wearing a Topman suit that my bubbles of optimism pop and I resign myself to the fact that my budget and my dream flat are as far apart as prawn crackers and actual prawns.
Still, not all of them have been horrendous although it does appear that without K, A and I are going to have to leave our little corner of West London for a slightly less salubrious corner of West London. It's a shame because I really started to feel at home there (kidnappings, street brawling, rats and mice notwithstanding). A and I are blitzing some viewings on Saturday so hopefully we'll find somewhere that ticks as many boxes as possible.
I'm shamefully having to borrow the money up front from my parents which I really hate. I have the cash it's just tied up in current house deposit and changing-job-mid-month pay horror. Luckily they still think I'm a pretty good daughter despite being monumentally shite with money but I am still consumed with guilt.
It would appear that S and I are getting together again on Saturday. He sent me a gorgeous email earlier this week apologising for coming on a bit strong (he wasn't) but saying how much he liked me. I reciprocated (it's only polite) and we've had a couple of long phone conversations since then. I can't get over how much we laugh together; we both seem to have an atypical propensity for abstract thought (his phrase not mine). The topics have ranged from what the 'J' in LL Cool J actually stands for (we concluded Jeremy), why it's acceptable to bury all pets in the garden except goldfish which must be flushed down the loo in a kind of Viking ritual, whether in fact I was insane for suggesting one should pre-poach cod in milk to make a fish pie and the most exciting sleb encounters we've had.
I'm not sure what we're doing at the weekend but I'm due to be surfing the crimson wave so whatever it is it won't involve sex (I just cannot go there...ever). Still, it's probably best not to start out whatever this is by basing it all on sex anyway. I am keen to make sure we can be friends, too. He does seem capable of commitment though as I found out when we briefly opened the Ex-Files last night. I found out he has lived with a girl before, and that they bought a cat together which she kept when they split up. I also found out that when they broke up he was so traumatised he jacked everything in and went travelling for 6 months. Hmmmm. The slightly worrying point there is that they still speak and in fact he was on the phone to her before he rang me. It's way to early for me to have an issue with that kind of thing but it's certainly a flag to be revisited if this gets serious. I tend to be extraordinarily insecure due to low self esteem and am very threatened by ex-girlfriends. Stupid really, being as they are 'exes'. I am also embarrassingly threatened by female friends of guys I date. I know why this is, I just don't know how to stop it. I should be prepared to be OK with it though as S shares a flat with a girl and seems to have many female friends. A bridge to be crossed when I reach it I suppose.
God I hate being so insecure, I really do. How does one actually get/find confidence?
I trace my issues back to my first serious relationship which was a cacophony of horror from pretty much the word go but I was inexplicably besotted and stuck with it through alcohol abuse, drug abuse, physical abuse, him having one child and then discovering he had another two year old by different woman a year into our relationship, prolonged disappearances of up to a week, affairs and constant physical put downs. It went on for two years and when I finally got the courage to leave him I was a shell, a husk of my former self. It's taken five years and two miscalculated relationships to get rid of most of the demons and here I am. Older, wiser, tougher (God I sound like that Aguilera woman) but still wracked with insecurity. I wish I could purge the last of it, I really do. Otherwise my only option is to give up on relationships, get a cat and start making my own jewellery out of shells.
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