The story goes that Johnny Depp used to fill hotel rooms full of daisies for Kate Moss. Who could not be seduced by this story, a beautiful whilst slightly dark talented man and an iconic girl-woman with issues? It’s a romance novelist’s wet dream. I want to get you in that head space where you believe in a crazy passionate love, then I’m going to tell you about mine and hope you see it in the same sense rather than wanting to vomit…
I’ve read a lot of books, I’ve read a lot of romance novels, I feed off them – the rich haughty man and the chambermaid; the man hating business woman who only loved Prada but falls for the barrister in her local coffee shop; the eternal bachelor and the independent female. I have started my own novel, although I warn you the title has the touch of the Jeremy Kyle/Jerry Springer about it, here goes…
‘I fell in love with my boyfriend’s plastic surgeon’
The first time we met I was out of sorts. I had just been confronted with the monstrosity-posing-as-my-boyfriend post cosmetic surgery (and that’s a whole other article) and I was in shock but damn I still noticed how good looking he was.
I entertained ideas such as going for a breast augmentation consultancy so I could feel his hands on my breasts. I had a minor crush which never came to anything since I was never to see him again. But then a year later my boyfriend invited him to his birthday party.
‘Him’ needs a name like Mr Big, lets just call him The Doctor. As soon as I saw him again, in his all black Armarni suit and shirt, chiselled jaw and light green eyes that held mine, I was reminded of my strong physical attraction to him.
What I wasn’t expecting was that we would be drawn to each other in a way I would imagine twins would be. Some strange genetic pull. He was the first, the last and may as well have been the only person I spoke to all night. He followed me outside for a cigarette pulled me around the corner where we couldn’t be seen and told me ever so intensely that he needed to get to know me. It was unstoppable.
My poor (ex) boyfriend. I guess really this should have been Part I of the break up series. Meeting The Doctor shone a light on my relationship, providing clarity to the truth I already knew existed and had been voiced that what I was getting from my relationship wasn’t enough to satisfy me. There was a reason why I kept waking up at 4 in the morning and thinking – is this it?
There was a reason for my quarter life crisis. When you’re in a relationship that doesn’t complete you, that doesn’t fulfil you it’s almost easy to find yourself dissatisfied with life whilst never pinpointing what exactly it is that’s making you dissatisfied. Let’s face it there could be many possible reasons all occurring at the same time: stressful job or lack of one; not enough money to buy shoes; not having been discovered as a supermodel yet etc etc.
But I think when you meet someone who really ‘gets you’ you have to turn and question all the other people in your life. Why waste half an hour of precious time explaining to someone what you mean when another person can understand what you are trying to say before you can formulate the words and gives you a response that finally makes sense.
‘You’re the male version of me‘ by Gabby Young and Other Animals used to be one of my favourite songs as I thought one day I would meet someone who was a reflection of me… or perhaps closer to the bone, I had met someone just like that and for a period thought that this meant we were destined for each other.
With hindsight and my new eyes of course this wasn’t right, dating yourself with all your own faults staring right back at you in the face no longer sounds like a match made in heaven. The Doctor is not the male version of me but he is the compliment to me. Where I lack, he astounds. Where he lacks… ok I haven’t figured where he lacks just yet (the honeymoon period) he’s seemingly perfect. I feel some deep understanding however that where he lacks I will astound. Just need to figure what I’m better at than he is. So far have come up with fashion and that’s it.
He didn’t say I was pretty or cute as people are wont to do, he said I was stunning.
He didn’t tell me I needed to eat he told me I would eat when I’m hungry.
He made me feel like a grown up.
He made me blush.
He made me nervous in a good way.
He made me walk down the road every day to work smiling to myself.
That first night I told him I was never going to get married and have children – my standard line – yet even then I could feel some kind of shift where I could imagine wearing his ring…
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