Now that the Past Participant has dumped me, via text…….so teenage and so NOT Adult….. I have ventured into the terrifying world of online dating. Having so suddenly felt alive and attractive, albeit for 3 weeks (ish), and having not even considered I might be a woman alive, beyond the expected carer thing, my brain and body came alight. It was/is, deeply weird. I mean, at 71, that’s IT, Isn’t it? Obviously not, however, this could have been a one-off, the only one-off. But I no longer believe that, not least because it was so very random, so unexpected, and, in my thinking, ONE is not enough. It might take thought and (scary) action to bring back that opportunity. Obviously she, ()pportunity) was knocking.

I joined one, then panicked and unsubscribed. I joined another, then panicked and unsubscribed. The men who ‘liked’ me and wanted to talk seemed a bit keen, their bios presenting what I have heard before, albeit 50 years ago. I I hear ‘feminist, no desire to change you, open-hearted, all that stuff. I heard that, out loud, from the Past Participant. My unbelief is on High Alert. But, there has been another few weeks of lonely, bored, wanting to share, missing companionship and all the other ships. So, even though those men who like me appear to live in the Dominican Republic, or Brazil, or Edinburgh or Glasgow or Inverness or any other damn place that isn’t anywhere easy, I did email respond to one of those men whose bio doesn’t request (‘any woman over 30’) even though he is over twice that age. Jeez…..I’m not sure this online thing is for me. However, I am brave, gallus, and game on, lonely too, scared too. That ‘Scared bollix’ mustn’t stop anyone. In order (and here I’m doing the sensible thing) to move on, if that’s what I wants, (the scandal plural intended) the scared bollix needs a knee in the groin. A Gallus exposure. Forget all the rules here.

Moving on……..