The extent of my seeing someone was January and he was French and it lasted all but 3 dates and it didn't end so well, obviously. And now, at the end of the year, quite as a surprise, there was another French guy and well, it went up to 7 dates -- the eighth meeting being the not so lucky time he ended things and this time, it lasted a month.
And it was good, while it lasted. Really good. Except for when it wasn't good, right there at the end, but I want to remember it for the good that it brought me. I realised there are no benchmarks for relationships -- no I've never been in one technically so there was nothing to compare it to but also now I know that each encounter is different. A journey so they say.
And though I was hoping for a better outcome -- an actual relationship with an actual guy who actually liked me -- it served its purpose. I don't know what yet at this point. It still hurts to think about it and yet I also don't want to forget.
On another note, I should probably stay away from the French for a bit.
