My run of bad luck with the misters has been creatively arranged, to put it mildly.
The toes I dipped at intervals into the dating pool pulled out the Mentally Abusive One, the Indecisive One, the Indian, the Cheater, the Namesake, the Fling and the Quite Possibly Still Married One.
My word that's a lot 🤔 Or maybe not for 25 years of adulthood.
There were other dates and conversations but if I were to list them all, we'd be here all week!
And then there's this guy.
I'm fiercely protective of the privacy of this relationship. For one thing I kept it mostly under wraps for 15 months.
And for another, I've developed some paranoia about not-exactly-well-wishers. And I want to be influenced by my own preferences. And psychoses 😎
Because ... I don't want him to help me forget the Others, I want to keep him.
