I had no idea last night when I made myself sit down to write (at the suggestion of my therapist) how much of a tsunami was waiting to be released. It was like three months of writing mojo hit me all at once, and at least four blog posts were jostling to be penned. So I’m back again with episode two. And the only thing linking it to last night’s epistle is the strand about the faith of the men I have dated this year.

Back in April / May I was casually seeing a guy I (wrongly) believed to be Syrian. I was able to come to this incorrect assumption by putting together small pieces of information he let me in on and what I had seen on his Facebook profile. Lack of communication is a dangerous thing, but when it was fairly obvious that his life in the Middle East had at times been traumatic and he’d been diagnosed with PTSD, I hadn’t liked to ask too many questions during the few dates we’d had. Then the relationship fizzled out before it had really gone anywhere (my decision) so I’d not thought much more about his origins.

One of the reasons I’d given up on us was because it felt too much like hard work. His emotional unavailability and my Bipolar did not make for great companions. He would shut down on me when things got (more) difficult in his life and I never quite knew when I would hear from him or see him again. So anxiety would kick in and I found that hard to cope with, especially when he would inevitably reappear after a few days like nothing had happened. So I ended it.

He had tried to initiate conversation a couple of times since then, which I’d ignored, but when I was on holiday in August he caught me nicely relaxed and with my guard down. I didn’t see the harm in seeing how he was getting on.

I had loosely been seeing a guy at that time but it wasn’t serious, he’d made it very clear he didn’t want commitment, so another month or so later when I had still been messaging my ‘not-Syrian’ friend and things seemed to be developing I told the guy I was seeing not to come back. It was a crazy time with some really mixed emotions for me, as during this time instead of the two of us meeting to discuss if we had a future, he ended up in Germany caring for his sick mother.

We still haven’t actually seen each other (only on a phone screen anyway) but we’re slowly getting to know each other again. Via WhatsApp. And after a couple of days of silence recently I have now discovered he’s taken his ill mother home to Iraq. So I ask, “Is that where you are from then?” No, apparently he’s originally from Iran. Oh and all the airports locally are in lockdown due to security issues. My poor anxiety. Not sure asking details was a good idea with the way my head works.

I have no idea when he will be back in the UK. He understandably doesn’t want to leave his mother while she’s sick. And now the airports are closed anyway. I just wish he’d keep me up to speed a bit better and not let my imagination run wild. I don’t know if he will ever be able to open up to me or not, but until we’re physically back together I can’t predict. I know I want to give him a chance though.

Oh and as a sideline, a Dutch guy I chatted online with earlier in the year also got back in contact. I told him I was with someone and that I wasn’t interested so he declared he was going to wait for me until I was single again. Sigh. I told him not to hold his breath.

I feel like I’m back in the realms of the imaginary boyfriend again! I mean I know he exists, but he’s never to be seen. Hopefully before too long, because for someone I haven’t physically connected with since May, I am missing him rather a lot. We will have to see at that point if we actually have a future. But we’ll give it good go.

👼🏻