A significant day

It’s my wedding anniversary today, and guess what? I couldn’t give a flying fuck.

I didn’t realise until gone lunchtime, I couldn’t tell you how long I’ve been married, and it all feels like a lucky escape, quite frankly – OK, so I’m a lonely, miserable bitch at the moment, but god I’ve learned a lot in the last year, about myself and relationships.

On the downside, it seems I’m a neurotic, insecure, anxious mess – a total and utter nightmare to date. But on the plus side, men seem to want to date me in spite of this. Look at The Pirate. The amount of angsty texts and emails the poor man has had from me, the accusations I’ve made… Patience of a saint. Either that, or he doesn’t read them, like the letter Rachel wrote Ross after their Break. It’s not beyond the realm of possibility.

The best, most varied sex of my life has happened outside of my marriage. The 28-year old boy had the most amazingly talented hands. Ah, those fingers… And The Pirate – well, I’ll save it for another entry since there’s more than enough content, but let’s just say horizons have been broadened and inhibitions shed. He’s pure filth.

I’m learning as I go along what I want from my next relationship. I fell into my marriage – childhood sweethearts who mistook a shared past with a common future. Next time, I’ll choose, and choose well.

So yes. Happy anniversary to me. I escaped…


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