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Twitter Bandwagon

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Are you on Twitter? Nooooo! Oh my god… you are so last century. Get with the programme! Everyone who is anyone is on Twitter – from Obama to Britney, Ashton to Queen Rania. Then there are us normal folk – the non-celebs. But there are some twitterati that are now celebs either nationally, regionally or even globally just because of their tweets. It’s all great. Twitter is now a force to be reckoned with. I get my news from Twitter – when a cargo plane crashed in Dubai, it was a tweep (you seeing all the tweet language going on here), who tweeted they had seen the plane down. It was tweeps that tweeted from their flats in Silicon Oasis that saw it plummeting out of the sky.  It was tweeps that took photos of the aftermath. The normal news broadcaster took an hour to confirm the crash. By then it was old news to the twitterati.

In 140 characters you can say how you feel, say how others feel or just write nonsense. It is self-indulgent, it can be factual, it can be faux and it is how we live our lives now. If I want to know something such as a word in Arabic, I tweet a request for a translation. If I want to know directions to somewhere, I tweet for help. If i’m late for a tweet-up, I tweet my lateness. Life now revolves around twitter.

Is it a bad thing? It can be. There have been articles written about how twitter has created a short concentration span for people. In my line of work, I need bouts of shortness to take me away from the hum drum of what i’m doing. In my breaks I can quickly scan the last 100 tweets and see the news and gossip in my twitter world.

But in a lot of ways twitter has given me a new lease of life in this city. I have made many friends through twitter who I might have known previously but now know intimately due to their tweets. I have made new connections in England, USA and of course Dubai. When I was in Mexico I was tweeted advice to stay away from the police in Tijuana airport and wished bon voyage from the terminal in Geneva.

I have also made several enemies. As in life, my tweets are not often self-censored. I swear, I sexualize (is that a word??) and I rant. People have been offended, people have been threatened (mostly by my vocabulary) and some have just been plain nasty and stupid which has resulted in them being unfollowed or even worse blocked. There are some tweeps who sound ok on twitter but you meet them in real life and they are god-awful humans.

The problem with twitter is what I like to call the Twitter mafia or bandwagon that now exists. There has been many a time; I will unfollow someone due to their tweets being completely and utterly boring, childish or just plain nasty. I will get told off by other tweeps for not following them. Yes, I’m sure they are lovely in your eyes, but in  my opinion they suck. But there are some people who find it hard to accept my choice in following and unfollowing tweeps.  Twitter is supposed to be your choice. It’s your account; it’s your timeline, so why should I follow someone just because you think that underneath their pathetic exterior that they are amazing people internally. I don’t see it.

The other Twitter Mafia occurrences are during political moments. If you don’t follow the same tune as everyone else, like for example in Egypt, you were slaughtered or ridiculed for your beliefs. I’m not a political person and if I am it’s mostly confined to discussions with close friends or my head. However, during this time of unrest I have tweeted a few times about things going on at the time or retweeted tweets of interest to me. I remember I questioned, that if Mubarak left now what would happen to the country. Wouldn’t it be better if he stayed and there was a proper transition of power? That idea was shot down as ridiculous. How dare I voice my concern for the country and not follow everyone to get rid of the man!?! Now with Libya exploding through our eyes, I am trying to keep schutum. It’s a terrible and worrying situation but I’m retweeting from the BBC when it’s an interesting point, otherwise I’m ignoring the tweets and reading about London Fashion Week (so glam this season).

Twitter is a useful tool for commercial enterprises and it is still astonishing how many companies don’t use it in the correct way. There are entrepreneurs that have communicated like human beings with their (potential) customers and ended up having strong support for their ventures. Their success has resulted in new ventures trying to do the same thing but failing. Copying is the sincerest form of flattery; but when you don’t do it properly it just makes me not want to buy from you.

Then there are certain groups of tweeps that will just go on and on about one company for ages. It’s obvious you are getting paid to promote them or that you trying to get free stuff from them. It irritates me that people can be so shallow but I guess twitter mirrors human nature – in 140 characters.

The new thing now is to have a twitter account and a blog. You are no one if you don’t have a blog. Now you may say you can talk shelo, you have both. Correct, but have you seen how many tweets I have written?? Many tweeps complained that I was taking up their timeline with my rants/tweets and that it would be best if I consolidate it into a blog. So I created my blog. Of course I love it that people read my tweets and also my blog, but both forms of communication have been started by me for my own narcissism. I love writing and used to be one of those girls with the fountain pen and book, writing all the time. Then I lost my mojo – Twitter and blogging brought it back. Now instead of writing in books for myself to read and cringe at later, I write and allow others inside. If you read my tweets and blog, you read. If not, I have my musings in an electronic form to retain and pass onto future generations. Now that can’t be a bad thing…can it?

Feet first reflexology – Dubai mall

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Today I decided that my dear friend @labibalaith and I needed some relaxing reflexology to calm our body and soul after weeks off pain. With voucher in hand we got a booking in the Dubai Mall branch. I like the town centre one but it was unfortunately fully booked.

Entering thru the door you go through a narrow corridor and are shown to your room. It’s very claustrophobic and dark but once in the room you are greeted by a nice leather swirly couch (you know how I love my swirly leather couches).

The lady finally arrived and revealed a sink under the table. She bathed my feet and cleansed it a bit. Then she moved behind me to give me a shoulder and neck massage. This was unexpected as I thought only my feet were to be touched. Luckily I had worn my strapless top so she could easily access my shoulders.

The massage occurred with the use of a towel rather than oils and there was no cracking of my muscles which I think is a sign of a good massage. The massage hurt and burnt and I usually like the kneading of the muscles to be hard.

After that pain she started punching my arm. This was the arm massage. If anyone else had punched me like that I would have smacked em one. Finally she did a forehead massage. All I could think about was “shit this is messing up my makeup”. Not relaxing thoughts.

Thereafter started the reflexology. First my shoulders were provided one of those neck pillows to rest my weary head while my feet and legs were pushed and massaged back into life. There were moments of pain but she persisted until the pain subsided.

After the half hour of reflexology the lady cleaned my towel with a hot towel gave me some water and bobs your uncle finished.

I think my 60 minute of reflexology was changed into half hour of massage and reflexology which was not what I asked for or paid using my voucher.

The experience was nice and helped clear those niggly pains in my leg but the noise didn’t make me relax. I prefer the tranquility of the town centre branch.

The service was great and my lady was very good. If it weren’t for the noise and change of treatment I would have been a very happy bunny.

Rating – 3 out of 5

The Value of Friendship

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I remember my mum once said to me when another “best friend” at school had dumped me: “Shelina these friends will come and go. Once you leave school you will no longer remember them, but you will one day meet friends who will be special and mean something in your life”. At the time I thought she was talking complete nonsense but turn out she was right (as usual!).

I have been upset in the past few weeks by one friend who falsely accused me of things which were so childish it’s just unbelievable that i was accused of them, failed to apologise and thought she would take advantage when I tried to clear the air, by being down-right nasty. I stupidly decided to act like an adult and try again to sort out the issue and she decided to ignore me. All night I’ve been upset about this behaviour and her behaviour for the last few months.

Then this morning it hit me – why do I give a fuck about this girl. Why am I bothered?? Of course I know the reasoning, as my parents tell me way too often, my heart is clearly visible on my sleeve and is open to thieves, trespasses and con artists. As much as I like to act like I’m a cold hearted, single minded, bitch lawyer from hell; deep down inside I actually have a heart. And the heart reared it’s ugly head again.

After dwelling in self pity at my stupidity for allowing someone like this into my life (again), I thought about my friends, especially the ones in the UK. There are six friends who have I have known from between 10-28 years. Collectively we have shared tears, illnesses, job pains, holidays, idiot boyfriends, concerts, weddings, babies and they have done a group hug when I’ve had birthday parties (yep I like to have a day to really celebrate me).  These six will forgive me for my late warning when I land at Gatwick Airport and will change their plans to see me as much as possible (except one as she lives in Saudi now but that’s besides the point). These guys understand when I say meet you under the Angel (Front Entrance of Selfridges). They have no issues with telling me to shut up if I am speaking too much. They have yelled at me and told me to fuck off (in a nicer way as they don’t swear at all) when I’m being a muppet.

This blog is dedicated to these six friends who have touched my life so much that I had to write a blog about them (I warn you it may be mushy):

Ange and Liz

Liz and Ange were the driving force for me moving to Dubai. Ange was seconded to New York and we went to see her (and celebrate my birthday!). All three of us worked together at the same company and had been there for roughly the same  period of time. After nearly 5 years at our company it was time for a change, Ange got the secondment, Liz changed department; however there was nowhere else for me to go in the company. Both ladies told me whilst we were sipping our cosmos that I should look into working abroad. So the day I landed back home I looked for jobs globally, found the job at Emirates (Legal not Cabin crew) and moved here three months later. On top of all that, they both came to Dubai to see me (for my birthday – you see a pattern emerging here) and to see what I was yabbering about in my email blogs. Because of their visit they understand my ramblings when I talk about life in Dubai. They saw it first hand as well as the gaudy Burj Al Arab. They inspired me and made me change my life.  They have both now moved out of London to the West Country and it’s brilliant for me. I get a weekend type break in the UK spending time with them just being me. It might not be New York, Paris, Rome or wherever else we have been together, but I don’t care as I get to spend time with them and they show me the country which gets me very excited. 

Me_ange_and_liz

Sheni and Happy

Sheni_haps_and_me

Sheni, Happy and I met on the second day of university. I was extremely guarded with making friends at uni and especially in our Law degree (most of the law students were complete muppets) but these two had that aura about them and it has never gone away. They helped me through the years of going out with the love of my life. He destroyed my heart until there was nothing left and they stood by me, hugged me, gave me a tissue when I needed it and gave their wise advice, although I didn’t listen to them most of the time. We have never lost touch. We might not do the email round robins like we used to but they always change their plans to see me as soon as I land in the UK. It really never feels like I have been away from them for as many months as it might be. They are now married to two lovely blokes and sometimes I have that feeling like I’m the odd one out as I don’t have that in my life but as soon as I have that feeling Happy (with a nickname like that she cannot be anything but Happy) will give her brilliant “look on the brighter side of life” talk and all will be well.

Greg

Greg_and_me

Greg is well Greg. We met through a girl who used to be my “best friend” (turned out to be a total c***). Thanks to her fancying him (oh the irony) and inviting me to live in the same flat with Greg and two other people we became friends and never looked back. When we lived together we were 5 minutes from Selfridges. Our lives since then has revolved around Selfridges (especially the Men’s department – have you seen the men they employee to work there – HAWT!). I just have to say “angel” and he will be there. I introduced him to Madonna and the greatness of her live in concert and he introduced me to foie gras and really good saffron from Spain. I am also his personal shopper when going to Dolce e Gabbana – this job only becomes available when you are special friends.

Out of the seven friends he is the one who I have screamed at the most (especially when the toilet seat was left up,) but we are hilarious when we make up: we look at each other, the bottom lip starts shaking, we start crying, then hug and then make up. It should be made into a short movie and win an Oscar for best short “how two besties make up after screaming at each” movie.

Maryam

Maryam_and_me


Maryam and I have known each other since we were four. We didn’t like each other for years (well I don’t think she liked me) but we were stuck with each other from an early age as our parents were and still are good friends and we both ended up going to the same junior and grammar school and university together. We even went to see the same religious man for Koran lessons although she finished earlier than me so I was not amused. We have been through so much together that it would take too long to write about it (plus she would call me on skype and kill me if I revealed any details – of course it was all Halal).  Our lives have always moved onto other things but we always end up near by to each other even without trying. She is now living in Saudi with her hubby and cutie kids. Although not the same country we still have that expat-living-in-Middle-East thing going on that we can relate to.

These guys are a huge part of my life and I don’t speak to them enough. There are so many forms of communication in this world now and I still do not contact them enough, but you know when I do finally see them we will always say it is like we only met the week before.

Ange, Liz, Sheni, Haps, Greg and Maryam – Thank you for everything and for reminding me even now what it means to have true, proper friends in my life like you guys. Miss ya and love ya. xx

PS – you could bloody call/text/facebook/twitter/skype/email me for once you know. xxxxxx

Happiness

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What makes a person happy? Is a hug from a friend? A kiss goodbye from a lover? A thank you from a guy you let out on the road? Or that favourite song that bings up on your ipod at the right moment? It’s all relative. We each have something that will make us happy. However, how I feel inside and how people perceive me on a general basis is shockingly different even now at this age.

I had a friend ask me how my day was on twitter this week. I said I was happy, which I don’t say that often on twitter (I’m known more for ranting). At the same time I got asked that question, blokey who is away right now came online. I miss him a lot, but I was so happy to hear from him that the fact that he is not here didn’t matter. He is safe, he is well and we got to chat for a while. That thought kept me happy the rest of the day. If it had been me a while back, I would have been a miserable cow, missing him and mopping around but now I’m just happy I got a few moments to be with him (virtually).

I have been told that I seem scary, bitchy, even evil sometimes and generally not happy. I guess it’s due to the fact that I am vocal and swear like a trooper. I can’t help the swearing, it goes with my personality and vocalises how I feel at that time. An addition of “fuck” in my sentences makes it more complete. Friends who know me and are used to me know how I talk and can understand if a fuck is added in there must be a good reason (it’s not like I have turret’s syndrome). I can smile and laugh and joke, but yet there is this perception that I will switch very fast from amicable me to scary witch. The reality is not the same as the perception, but it’s hard to change people’s views.

I have been low a few times in my life, even very recently I had experiences in my life that could break a person, but somehow I survived and continued on with the help of my dear family, friends and cat. One recent experience, comes back into my head whenever I am unhappy or sad. I just remember where I was at that time in my life and how bloody awful it was and everything else that happens now is a drop in the ocean. Things that happen to me now, although it matters to a point, its non-consequential at the end of the day. But I’m no fool, daily life can get you down, which is why you need reminders every so often to pick you up.

At the end of the day, it’s how you feel that matters. I don’t want to get all Oprah-like, but if you are happy in yourself, and in your life then all will be fine. Of course there will always be things that make you unhappy, but remember the little things and all will be fine. And if worse comes to worse, I find spraying my favourite perfume (Sicily by Dolce e Gabanna – please bring it back!) can make me happy for the rest of the day.

Gotta go something has just come up to make me smile …

Bitch

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Bitch is defined as a malicious, unpleasant, selfish person, esp. a woman.

I have been called this loads of times; at work, by men, by women, by people on the street and even by little shitty kids. Am I bitch? I can be. Is it nice to hear? Of course not, but it’s now got to the point that I just shrug my shoulders, say “meh” and walk off.

It’s not that I wake up in the morning and think “hey let’s be a complete bitch to the people who come face to face with me today”. In general I’m quite normal unless antaognised and then I become a bitch. If you are malicious, unpleasant and downright selfish towards me, with no provocation from my side then I will be a definable bitch. It ain’t pretty and add my fiery temper to the mixture and it can make a lethal combination.

Recently, I have had to think about how much of a bitch am I in my life right now. At work I had to endure nasty abusive emails from a man, who then tried to justify his behaviour in his final email by saying in a few more words that I was a bitch and no one liked me at work. Of course thats not true – the coffee boy loves me. But it got me pondering. I am in a job which involves me having to say no to hair brained ideas, illegal activities and very bad drafting on a daily basis. There is limited chance of me saying yes unless it involves the question “would you like another cup of coffee m’aam”. But does that make me a bitch? No it doesn’t, but people perceive me as one as I do not sugar coat my professional advice to them. I’m polite, professional and explain eloquently the pros and cons, but at the end of the day if its a daft idea, I’m not signing off on it and if you don’t like it, I dont give a shit. I am also the sole woman in a management role in the company full of 90% men. These men – not stating their nationality – have conflicting views of how women should talk, act and what position they should hold in the company. Me being me is not acceptable and I have to defend myself from the hurdles of rubbish I have to hear and deal with on a daily basis. In my view that makes them bitches, but men are never called that are they? They are called opinionated.

I have also been considered a complete bitch due to my last blog. I was upset, pissed off and had been fucked mentally in the head to the point of craziness. As much as I try to be strong, having all the horrible occurences happening all in one go within a week, and stupidity from one source, just made me lose all controlled sense and my fiery, passionate and crazy side came out. It’s not an excuse but it’s my reasoning. Was it bitchy. Some would say yes. Was it truthful. Yes of my feelings.

I have been told that I show my heart on my sleeve and that’s why I get treated like a muppet. I try and act like this strong, empowered, some would call bitchy, woman on the exterior to protect the heart but it doesn’t always work. And when I get exposed, I lash out in a bitchy way. I have learnt to control my fiery temper after many years of stumbling, hurting others and making some people cry (kinda of cool sometimes), but at my age and in my life I now have to do more to stop the fire.

I also have to stop being a mug with people. I need to stop giving a shit about people and their behaviour. If they can’t be gentlemanly/ladylike to me, then there is no reason for this to be reciprocated by me. Profesionally, I need to learn how to bite my tongue, get on with the work and ignore the fools. Personally, I need to stop being supportive, friendly and caring to people who will only abuse this kindness for their own gain and selfishness.

The muppet for hire has now retired, but the bitch is here for special performances.

Sadness

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The last week and a bit has been a bag of emotional turmoil.

If you follow me on twitter you will know my aunt passed away last week. She was related to me from my mum and dad’s side (nothing dodgy like – our family ain’t like that), and she was a major part of both families in England. Her loss, though we knew it would come anytime soon, was still upsetting. This was especially due to the fact that as I was unable to join my family back in Birmingham to attend the funeral and be with them.

With my family it’s a mixed bag of emotions. We are fiery, bitchy, stubborn, moody gits and some have a tendency to be evil fuckers. But for all these curses (verbal and magical), slaps, and plain crapness, they are my blood and due to the sameness in us, they are brilliant to hang out with or “comedy” as we used to say. I do miss them especially the cousins in Brum, which makes it even sadder that I missed being with them at this time.

Last week, I also decided finally that one man was too much of a playa for me and a liability. Picture the scenario:

1. Two parties, same venue, two weekends, same lovely host.

2. First party – I miss due to being in London. He invites town ho no. 2.

3. Second party – I turn up, he suddenly turns up after me. Kind of a surprise.

4. Pictures show up of both parties. She’s in the first lot (nothing too snuggly in those photos I must say but she was fucking there), I’m in the second lot (with him next to me in most of them or arms around me).

Nothing overly wrong with this you might say. But do you remember when he said he didn’t know how to fit me in and kept on “forgetting” to take me on dates he had asked me out on?? Well I got pissed off in my womanly way that:

a. He was able to take her out on a date.

b. He was unable to fit me in (except when we were dancing seductively on the dance floor – we were good!).

c. He went to the same party (in a way) with two women and flaunted it for others to see.

And on top of that it means that’s she’s the other woman and that’s just horrible. It was enough I had to see her trying it on with him, in front of me when I was “seeing him” but this?? Ok yes i’m slightly irrational, but hey this irrationality made me realise that I didn’t want to be with a man like him. Let her have him. Two sluts equal …crap things. 

So due to the irrational but brilliant reason to get rid of the playa, I also realised that I cared a hell of a lot for other man (no 3 – if you have been reading my blogs before – keep up people). So you might ask what is the sad part..? Well just as we had semi-sorted ourselves together, he has had to pack his bags and leave me for a month for work. I have a feeling he won’t shag around, but due to his location I’m worried for him and it’s just a crap time to leave. So I’ve been emotional for the last few days but 27 more days to go till I see him again and then we can start the proper dating thing again, or see if we even want to be together.

Then there is work. I actually like my job. It’s interesting. I’m dealing with legal matters that I have never covered before and on a global scale which is fun, interesting and never boring, but what I am disliking is the men in my office. The start of the week had me in tears nearly due to a man in the office being abusive to me once again on email. It’s been going on for six months and yet he only gets a slap on his hand for his shitty behaviour. It’s depressing, frustrating and plain piss annoying. I have to just hold my breath for now and pray that karma will come and give a big kick in the arse to no man’s land. But it’s not just him. I work with a certain country of men and whilst I do have some wonderful friends from this country and I’m originally from there, these men do my head in on a daily basis. They are chauvinistic, arrogant, sexist, uneducated bastards and they smell of BO a lot of the time as well. They need to get a can of deodorant spray liberally, wash their clothes, buy some manners and learn how to live in the 21st century. But you know that won’t happen in the near future with the majority of these men. This realisation made me sad.

The other frustrating issue I also dealt with was on twitter. After the abusive emails from knob in the office, I ranted as I tend to do on twitter. Twitter is full of friends that I have made and share my life with on a daily basis, who are predominately living in the same town as  me. They know when I’m happy, sad, awake, alive, tired or hungry. They know more than my best friends (which can be scary) or they have become my best friends (mega!). So I ranted, and then slimy pervy man of twitter decided to put his 2 cents in and start being nasty to me. The breaking point was when he said I should go get therapy instead of twittering. This is not the first time he has said it to a woman on twitter. The irony is that he requires therapy more than most of us, due to his nature, but he’s in denial. However, all women in his books (and i’m sure other men) are nuts and need a shrink. Isn’t it a sad thought when a man thinks in this chauvinistic and sexist manner in this day and age. Yes, he’s an old man but should that be an excuse??

I know that life has its ups and downs and we all suffer, but somtimes when it all comes at the same time it can be truly horrifying to deal with. I’m lucky that I have good friends and family who have looked after me this week especially when I was very sad, giving me real and virtual hugs and love throughout. So through the sadness comes thankfulness and hope – and that makes me happy.

Monogamous

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We all have our views of what is morally correct in life and in relationships. One area that has become grey for me is monogamy.

I have had numerous men who I have dated or been in a relationship with who have been with other women at the same time. It has come to the point where my face is unshockable when a guy says he is not exclusive with me or he doesn’t believe in monogamy. I have tended to boot the man out of my life pronto once hearing those lines or similar ones. The men who have been sleeping around behind or infront of my back tend to always have one of the town ho’s in their speed dial. I don’t want to catch their diseases and I don’t want to be the other girl. I have this self-belief that being with me should be sufficient, why should they need to be with disease laden ho’s as well.

This righteousness has worked well with me for all these years. I have been monogamous in relationships and even when fancying men I have tended to fancy one man at a time.

However, recently this has all changed, and I feel guilty.

Have you ever been with playas and then after playing and dumping you they move onto another woman who they are utterly faithful to? Don’t you always wish you could be that girl who could be the one to make him change his ways? Well it has happened. I have become that woman. I have somehow fitted into one man’s life in such a way for him to denouce his playa calling and he has been faithful when we are together. Admittedly as soon as he dumped me last year he went all out on pussy patrol, but since we have gotten back together as undefinable friends, he has been faithful.

However, I’ve become the playa. And I hate it.

It was not intentional, but it’s like london buses. They never turn up when you want it and then three turn up all at once. It’s sod’s law of the highest order and it’s infuriating me.

The playa in me came out for four weeks (see previous blogs) and although great at the time and a powerful feeling, now I feel wretched. Although we are not officially together again, bloke mentioned above (Man no 3), and I are in constant contact and he has been amazing. He has been faithful despite us being undefinable currently.

Then there is Mr Playa (Man no 2). He is proud that he is being a playa right now; he relishes it; he thrives on it; he is even callous in his playaness and he is not subtle in his behaviour (despite his protestations that he is). But I still fancy him. And this is where my monogomous views are being beaten up. I am seeing Man no 3, but still fancying no 2. There is no shagging, but there is inneundo and light kisses of tempatation from both of us. I feel like I am cheating on 3 in my mind and my lips. I would hate and scream at a man I was dating if he did that (and I have done that with a few slaps in between), but I am now just as bad.

Where is the line in being monogamous? Are you still considered monogamous if you don’t sleep with other men? What about holding hands? Or dancing seductively with each other? Or kissing secretly in quiet corners?

Today, afer a punch to my stomach, I fully realised how awful no 2 was for me and for my soul. I have known him for a short while, but I have seen him and watched him and can see that there is something good in him underneath the playa facade. However, for now he has decided to take on the role of the playa character and I want no part in that play. (Also why is that when men play around in this city they are studs, but with the women we call them ho’s?? – i digress).

I also realised that despite the events that have occured between me and 3, he has not wavered his feelings for me, although I have. He cares, he loves, he is a genuinely kind person. He knows how I have felt recently and what I have been up to (maybe not as much as the above states), but he has still been good about my non-monogamous behvaiour. I don’t want to hurt him, I don’t want to be the horrible playa girl, I just want to be in his life if he will accept me in.

 

The three L’s

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Like = Mind

Lust = Body

Love = Soul

All three can work separately, but together, entwined, can topple Burj Khalifa in its magnitude. 

We get all three at different times but very rarely get all three at the same time.

Friends and one show I was watching (30 rock if you must know) have discussed about “the One” this week. It’s got me thinking – Is the One out there with all three components in him to satisfy me? Should I settle for someone who can provide at least one of the three componenets? I’m now at that stage in my life when I’m wondering if I should give up hope of finding that one perfect guy who can provide me with these three things in my life. But then I argue to myself, should I compromise? Don’t I deserve to have a guy who can give me love, lust and like all the time?? 

I have met the One. I met him more than ten years ago. He was my first love and to be honest, my only true love. However, times have passed; I’ve moved away, he’s married and has kids and I don’t want to be with him now. He was my soul mate, he was the One, but our soul’s were not mean’t to be together at this time in our life.

I believe there can be another One but I don’t know how long I can wait for him. Or have I met him already and just not realised he’s the One? 

Does the One come to you in different ways? I’m still in confusion land and its not getting any clearer in my head. Last week I thought there was light at the end of the tunnel, but situations keep on changing. I keep on changing my mind and I keep on hearing different things. Different advice, different views, different actions.

I have Like with one man and Lust with another man, but I don’t feel Love and it feels like that should be the most important component that should be in my life.Should I forget about both of them and wait for the One to come eventually into my life. It would be the easiest option, but I am loving the thrill of the game right now. For once I am feeling liked and lusted after. All parties are playing games and it’s fun. It’s not healthy but god dammit it feels good. But how long can it last for?

There are a lot of loaded questions tonight. Of course the answer won’t come tonight or tomorrow, but it’s something to think about…