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The Tales of Mr. Bingley Part 2

A very special day arrived. Sports ball, a tradition all over the UK for people in a varsity team. What happens is basically that everyone dresses up real good; dresses and suits and do what sport teams do best: get drunk. I arrived very late to pre-drinks as I was doing a project for my course. Yes I do actually also study aside from all the awkard stuff. The boys and girls had gathered at Pia’s house. I wore my prettiest dress, a white one with flowers. Upon arrival I immediately understood that everyone was already very tipsy and I felt quite uncomfortable being stone cold sober in between all the idiocy and laughter, thus I spent most of the pres inside Pia’s house, with her housemates, who had no idea what was happening either. It wasn’t until I stood at the pavement in front of the house, waiting for Liz to head down to the venue where the ball was held, when Mr Bingley (after months of radio silence) walked up to me and asked me how I were.

We walked up the road together, completely lost in conversation I totally forgot that I was supposed to take a taxi with Liz. I pretty much spoke with Mr. Bingley the whole way to the venue, god knows about what, this is where my memory starts to fail me. Once inside the venue I had apparently caught up with the drunkness and don’t remember much of the ceremony apart from the fact that I was seated next to one of the boys who kept showing me pictures of him a couple of years ago and kept asking me if I thought he was fit back then.

At one point I decided to sneak out and go for a cigarette. I’d like you guys to know that I am not an actual smoker but what they call a ‘social smoker’ and a ‘stress smoker’. I’m not quite sure which one it was at this moment as I was equally as stressed as ‘social’. Once I got out I was joined by an unknown handsome young men who begun a conversation with me about politics. It was quite refreshing and we shared a lot of opinions. Then he asked me what team I was in and where I was from, somehow my answers added up to something that made him smile. “Do you know Mr. Bingley?” He asked. Yes, yes I knew him and that was my cue to rush back inside.

Once inside Mr Bingley asked me to come outside, because we had to talk about things. When we were outside he kept apologizing about something that I was not aware of (and still not to this day). And what happened next is just as confusing for you as it was for me because I literally don’t remember it well enough, but somehow we got into a massive argument which lead to me storming away, furiously and him running after me. I’d like to imagine that it must’ve looked like a dramatic scene from a romantic movie, but it probably didn’t as I was very drunk at this point and wearing heels.. not an ideal combination. The chaos amplified when Tiger suddenly pulled up in a taxi and got out, suspicious of Mr. Bingley as he thought Mr Bingley was bothering me. Somehow I got both Tiger and Mr Bingley in a taxi towards the next venue where the after party was held, but as soon as we got there Mr Bingley and I had another fight, which resulted in me running after him and then giving up.

I wish I could be more precise but, the fact is that no one remembers it well enough for this situation to make any sense. It was at this point when the young Politics man from earlier showed up again and told me to leave it. He then suggested to leave the afterparty as well, for the queue would take a million years and to just have an after party at his place. Yes, when I retell the story like this I feel like that didn’t sound like a good idea AT ALL, but at that time it did. So we took a cab back to his place, which seemed awfully familiar. It was Mr Bingleys house. Yes, Mr. Politics was Mr Bingleys housemate. Brilliant. But no one was there so Mr Politics and I continued our conversation until we got a serious craving for a cigarette, but neither one of us had some, so we decided to call another cab and buy a pack. And just as we got into the cab, we passed a very raggedy and shirtless Mr Bingley.

In the cab Mr Politics started to proclaim how I was making it very difficult for him not to cheat on his girlfriend which caused me to move as far away from him as the cab would allow me. When we returned to the house with cigarettes another car pulled up and girl got out, screaming and yelling at us. Or at Mr Politics rather. I understood that this was the girlfriend he had mentioned before, thus I sneaked off and went into the house. There I found Mr Bingley and his other housemates who were all very surprised to see me. Apparently the fight outside between Mr Politics and his lady became worse, as the police was called by the neighbours at one point, but at that point I had passed out on Mr Bingleys couch.

The next morning it became clear that both Mr Bingley and Mr Politics’ girlfriend thought that we had taken the cab back to my place to do.. well.. stuff, but this wasn’t the case at all. Mr Bingley had apparently become furious and somehow lost most of his expensive suit. He dropped me off at home that morning and that’s how we started texting again.

The texting lasted till the end of the year, but over summer both of us were too busy and I believe both of us were too proud to continue texting after the summer. So that was the last we heard of Mr Bingley.

Stay golden my little ponyboys and stay strong my fellow awkward-turtles out there,

Yours truly, Maple.

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When Will Love Be Through With Me

More time passes by and more and more I start to doubt myself. Am I capable of falling in love? What is holding me back? Am I normal? All the usual questions a 21 year old would ask herself, you’d say. However as I look at the people around me I notice that everyone has had at least one relationship in their lifetime. I know it’s not a bad thing to be a bit unusual, or differ from the rest. I understand that it is different for everyone and that I shouldn’t compare myself, but this time it’s different. I have never connected with anyone on that level. So I googled it, for google is the almighty wizard filled with infinite wisdom and will answer all my questions and what I discovered is that, basically. I have a lot of issues.

I came across this article from Psychology Today in which they catagorize people according to the reasons they don’t fall in love easily and guess what; I tick all the boxes. I do have childhood trauma, I am very fearful of being controlled by the relationship, I do feel like I have an obligation and have been trapped in relationships by guilt and threats, I do act like I don’t need love and I am also not able to sustained prolonged intimacy – the beginning is fun, but then it gets scary and boring.

And although all of those are massive warning signs, I have let go of most of those things a long time ago. What if it is not due to something that happened to me but more to the way I am. I have also recently discovered this article in buzzfeed that talks about ‘aromantics’ and gave a basic definition:

  • Aromanticism means you cannot feel romantic attraction. Like any romantic or sexual orientation, it is a part of a person’s nature, and while attraction patterns can be fluid, no one can force their romantic/sexual orientation(s) to change, not even by behaving contrary to those orientations. Dating someone won’t make an aromantic person feel romantic attraction or love. Great sex won’t do it. Even loving someone strongly as a friend won’t suddenly flip the switch in an aro’s brain and lead them to feel romantic attraction. Either you feel attracted to someone in a particular way or you don’t.

Although I thoroughly recognize myself in a lot of the description I don’t quite know where the line begins or ends. How do you know if you’re aromantic or just really fucked up? The sad thing is, I actually try so hard to fall in love sometimes that it makes me feel utterly ridiculous and that I end up hurting people.

For example this week I had to deal with both Michael and Sebastian. Michael, two days after he left, sent me a message saying that he was starting to ‘fall for me’. Having no clue how to answer to that, for my feelings are not even close to mutual I freaked out and still haven’t responded. Sebastian then in turn told me that he no longer wanted it to be awkward between us (not that it was in my eyes?) and that it is better to stay friends. I responded by saying that I hoped we were friends already. Then as the night continued, Sebastian’s best friend Regis came up to me and decleared his hatred for me. He claimed that I had ‘wrecked’ Sebastian. Knowing that all of it was probably true, there was nothing left to say. However I started laughing as I looked aside and saw that Sebastian was having an intense make-out session with a random girl just a few meters away from us (we were in a club, just to clarify). As I wanted to say – he seems to be over it – I remained silent instead and left.

I just like to kiss people when I’m durnk, I don’t actually ever mean to hurt anyone

Stay golden my little ponyboys and stay strong my fellow awkward-turtles out there,

Yours truly, Maple.

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The Tales of Mr. Bingley part 1

I feel like I owe you guys an explanation of what exactly happened to Mr. Bingley after I stopped blogging for a bit. The last bit you got from me and him was the money throwing part (which you can read back here), which was basically almost a year ago; so there’s a lot of gaps in the storyline to fill up. I will try to keep it short. Ha who am I kidding?

After the money throwing incident there was the Christmas social in which I was dressed up as an elf. Mr. Bingley and I left pretty early and went back to mine, once again we kissed but nothing really happened. I’m not sure why this kept happening, because I do believe we both wanted to take things further but I guess we were both scared. At this point I quite started to like Mr. Bingley and as we said goodbye the next morning, for we wouldn’t see each other over the Christmas period I was genuinely a bit sad.

What happened after the Christmas break was a bit odd. Basically I did not see him for over two months. He stopped going out and we both were too proud to text each other. Oh and what I forgot to mention was that he basically “borrowed” my sport trackies and my favourite hoodie after the Christmas special and never gave it back. Thus that was quite annoying.

It must’ve been the end of March when I finally bumped into him again on a night out. At this point I decided that the best thing to do was to just ignore him, but when I got home I received a text from him asking if I was angry with him. My housemate jumped in and took the phone away from me. Somehow this resulted in a very badly worded drunk text from me (a.k.a. my housemate) asking him out on a date. I couldn’t quite cope with the very possible rejection that was about to come my way so I tossed my phone across the room and went to bed. The next morning I woke up to a message from Mr. Bingley. “I would like to go for drinks soon, if you still want to. How about Friday?” I accepted and the date was set.

That Friday I found myself incredibly ill. I wasn’t quite sure whether this was my body telling me it was an incredibly bad idea to go for drinks with him or whether it was just bad luck, but some higher dating god did not want us to be together because I received this message from him late that afternoon. “Can we have drinks another time? Just found out I shouldn’t have been driving my car since November because my MOT ran out and my tax ran out today. How about Monday?” 

My friends and I basically couldn’t stop laughing after that text and it became an inside joke. But seriously though? If you think you’ve been pied off badly, remember me, who’s date has been canceled because of an expired MOT. Seriously though. Anyway, I received the hint and didn’t really bother with him anymore. So I sent him the following reply: “To be honest I think neither one of us is really fuzzed about drinks, so let’s just leave it with this.”  To which he responded with a casual “Fair enough”.  I know I am clearly not an expert in relationships or human contact, but I do know that most people will go after what they really want and a ‘fair enough’ seemed like he was fine with my decision.

I would’ve been happy to leave it with that, because at that point I really didn’t care about the whole affair. However, it did not end there.

Stay golden my little ponyboys and stay strong my fellow awkward-turtles out there,

Yours truly, Maple.

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Wasn’t Expecting That

So my friend Michael came to visit this weekend. We met each other last summer when I was working on a campsite in Spain and we basically spent every night together and towards the end we had a little fling, I am not going to lie. However as our ways parted after the summer, I did not expect to see him again. That’s the way it is supposed to be with summer romances, isn’t it?

So when he suggested to come and visit me this weekend I didn’t quite know what to expect, but I hoped it would be a friendly visit. The first awkward moment became apparent as I walked into my room after he had dropped his stuff inside and noticed a big bouquet of flowers. Secretly hoping that he bought it for his mother that he would see on his way back I pretended I’d never seen it. Unfortunately, they were for me.

The weekend continued with us going out with one of my neighbours. As the three of us were dancing the night away in the local student club I ran in to Sebastian (I mentioned him in my earlier post ‘Back to Black‘). After quickly saying hi to Sebastian and his friends I returned to Michael and my neighbour. An hour later whilst it became clearer and clearer that Michael was trying to impress me with his dance moves and his constant winking – I received a message from Sebastian. ‘Are you going to Flamingo later?‘ Flamingo is basically the only bar down here that is opened till 6 am. I am a massive fan personally. Yes – it may be filled with creepers and desperate people, but they play tune after tune and they serve drinks in their smoking lounge!

I replied with a casual ‘Of course!’ as it is only natural for me to continue the night there I had accidentally arranged a meet-up later. If I had learned one thing from the past it was to keep people who probably both like you seperated. Don’t introduce them. Thus as we moved on to Flamingo (because I had also promised my neighbour and Michael earlier) we bumped into Sebastian sitting on the corner of the street next to this homeless guy called Jeff. Jeff turned out to be an absolute legend.

At first I very much wanted to pass him without saying a thing, for that would be the best scenario, but I couldn’t push myself to leave Seb there, for he was looking quite lost. Thus I walked over with my neighbour and Michael and introduced the lot. Seb, being the gentleman he always is offered to pay for my neighbour as she did not have enough money for the entry.

We all went in and it became apparent quite quickly for both my ‘suitors’ that they were both interest in me. What followed was a veeeeery uncomfortable evening in which I heavily tried to avoid giving one more attention than the other, or the kind of attention that might make them get the wrong idea. Thus when Seb grabbed me by my arm and asked me if I saw him as ‘just a friend‘ I collapsed under the stressfulness that had been the entire night and mumbled that I would prefer to have that conversation at another point. He left, probably slightly offended or disappointed. Michael, my neighbour and me left not much later and found him waiting for us outside, but as soon as he noticed that I was still in the company of my friends he walked off. Completely normal behaviour.

Not having mentioned the amount of fights that Seb’s very rowdy friend managed to get involved in that entire night (I honestly do not understand that testosterone driven habit of drunk men) I thought the worst was finally behind me, when my neigbour asked for a sigaret from a random guy on the way home. As soon as he turned around I identified him as a guy I was briefly seeing last year (whom I mentioned in the post ‘Till there were none‘) I gave up on hoping I could have a nice night out. I guess this is my punishment for dating too many people.

Now the next day Michael became very clingy and stayed around all day, whilst all I wanted to do was being by myself. Not to mention receiving messages from Tiger if I wanted to hang out. All in all it caused me having a slight panic attack. It probably sounds ridiculous but all I want right now is for everyone to leave me alone so I can curl up in my blanket and lie on the floor like a burrito. But for some reason (and I am going to generalise here, sue me) men are incapable of being friends with girls without having another agenda. I also don’t understand why all the boys I meet immediately want to be in some sort of relationship, whilst I don’t think I am capable of that. After Mr. Bingley there’s been no one who comes even close to him and I am not interested in anyone that’s not him. There’s the truth.

Anyway, that was enough excitement for the rest of the week for me, I hope.

Stay golden my little ponyboys and stay strong my fellow awkward-turtles out there,

Yours truly, Maple.

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Back to Black

So a couple months later, and so much wiser, I find myself far distanced from the infamous Mr. Bingley. As he graduated and moved somewhere else I never actually saw him again after summer time. But good thing for you guys -not so much for me –  my very unsuccessful love life continues and I have a few new candidates to introduce to you.

Sebastian, a very old fashioned guy, as well on the boy’s varsity team who apparently had been waiting to take over Mr Bingley’s role. However after a date and a couple of nights out I have realised that I am just not romantically interested in him. It is odd how that works. Someone fits all the bills, yet the feeling is not there.

Spencer, a friend of Liz and a really handsome young man, however; again, I don’t think I am interested.

And finally Tiger, he has become a really good friend of mine although he keeps sending me love letters, and again, you can probably guess it: not interested.

Anyhoo, this was just a post to keep you guys up to date. More will follow.

Stay golden my little ponyboys and stay strong my fellow awkward-turtles out there,

Yours truly, Maple.

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Renaming Mr. Bingley

Nope. I was not “very polite” nor “clear about the fact that I want no role in this whatsoever”. Of course I wasn’t. No, instead I chose to confront him on the next night out, dressed in an elf outfit. If you have no idea how hard it is to keep your dignity whilst wearing an elf costume, let me tell you; near to impossible. Anyway, Mr. Bingley assured me of the fact that he did have a girlfriend, however broke up with a couple of months ago. This helped me getting to the conclusion that he did have a girlfriend the first time we kissed, but seeing as it was the same for me I was not in the position to judge.

So he went home with me that night. What can I say? I am ashamed and disappointed in myself, but a drunk heart does what a drunk heart wants. Nothing happened, again. We kissed briefly and passed out, which seems to be our signature move. I am not complaining however.

Now comes the most awkward part. I amused my friends till the point of tears in their eyes when telling, or rather acting out, this part of the story. So imagine me, half dressed in an elf-costume, half in PJ’s. Then on to him, wearing some weird-ass costume as well. Then back to me, awkwardly making clear that I have a lot of work to do. Back to him, understanding and possibly quite relieved to have an excuse to leave my house. Then back to me, realizing he doesn’t have money for a cab and is wearing tights, feeling sorry for him and offering him money for his cab. Back to him, feeling quite demasculinized by having to ask for money but accepting my offer anyway. Then back to me, taking a tenner out of my wallet, having a brief yet essential moment of brain failure, throwing the money onto the bed. As the money is hovering in the air, I realized what I just had done. I had thrown money at him. I had just thrown money at him after he spent the night at my place, wearing tights. What was I thinking? Did I believe that I had to act thug for living the thug life?

Thus, there you have it. Him awkwardly grabbing the note from my bed, me screaming frantically inside my head. I don’t have words for it really, apart from the fact that I am an utter and complete idiot. Nevertheless I have decided to rename Mr. Bingley for this would NEVER EVER EVER have happened in Pride and Prejudice and Jane Austen would quite possibly turn around in her grave if she found out that I used the name of her beloved Mr. Bingley for a lad that I throw my money at.

All suggestions are welcome.

Stay golden my little ponyboys and stay strong my fellow awkward-turtles out there,

Yours truly, Maple.

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Just My Luck.

So, last Wednesday we had another social which didn’t go quite as planned. Like always there was a lot of alcohol involved and I don’t really want to get into it, but somehow I ended up flirting a lot with Mr. Bingley and eventually kissing him. Nothing very interesting apart form the fact that he somehow ended up getting back to mine. He lost his wallet and I did offer to take him home with the cab, but he clearly wanted to stay at mine, which I in turn didn’t particularly had a problem with. Some stupid cringy things were said from my part mostly because I was boozed and that’s when I say things I immediately regret. I also headbumped him 5 times and the firealarm continuously went off, so now, it wasn’t particularly romantic either. Anyhoo. Next morning, I woke up, noticed Mr. Bingley and freaked out for a moment. Luckily things didn’t get too awkward and we ended up cuddling and talking for quite a while. Not long after he got a taxi back to his house, preceded by VERY awkward goodbyes and I didn’t hear from him again.

The next day one of my friends from the team (Liz) asked me what happened with Mr. Bingley, because she had clearly saw us together so I explained to her that he stayed over but nothing had happened. As it happened, one of my other team mates was holding her phone as I was sending the message to Liz and it turned into a gossip between a couple of the girls. Quite unfortunate, but hey, nothing I could do about it.

Today I met up with Liz in town and as we were walking she casually mentioned that she overheard the girls saying that Mr. Bingley has a girlfriend. Apparently she assumed that I knew and caught me in total shock. No, I’m not devastated because I am crushing over him, because honestly I don’t really care. In that moment I just couldn’t believe that he could be so sneaky and I was very very disappointed in my own people-reading-skills. I’m not one to talk, because I did cheat on my boyfriend with HIM, however I was never sneaky about it and told my now ex-boyfriend straight away and broke up because to me that is clearly a sign that something is wrong. However, if there is nothing I hate more than liars and cheaters (in the way that they continuously do it behind their partner’s back, yes that might be hypocritical, but that is how I feel). So, long story short: I am going out tonight, forget about this whole thing and the next time I will see Mr. Bingley I will be very polite yet clear about the fact that I want no role in this whatsoever. I am disgusted. 

Stay golden my little ponyboys and stay strong my fellow awkward-turtles out there,

Yours truly, Maple.

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