Seasonal man sort out

Task: No task needed, long overdue

Location: New York Budget Inn, NYC

In my pursuit of finding love abroad, I’m using my time away for a BHS-style clear out of my relationship stock back home; the head and heart clutter of ex-conquests, friends with benefits and men who just don’t do enough to earn my attention and yet I still buy into them. These are the men with whom despite years of doing what we do, we have not exchanged loyalty cards.

Included in the “free to a good home” bargain bin today are two very different men. A sexy-selfie requesting conquest whose life has been so littered with famous and fabulous mannequins that he comes to expect attention on cue out of the blue. Second, the local lad I’d liked for a long time (16 years to be precise) who has reached the end of his shelf life and must finally be banished from “Hollie’s potential husband list”, largely due to him giving zero fucks.

Please do not get me wrong, I’m not personality bashing here, they are both exceptionally great guys that other ladies will be very lucky to have, but us being anything more than friends is pointless. Neither of them are “the one” and I am quite clearly not their high ticket item either.

It is with no animosity that I type this, but there has come a point where I just don’t want to send an (attempted) sexy-selfie to someone who is never going to want a relationship with me. Scooping my boobs up from under my armpits is just too much hassle, even when I’m not in a New York hostel where my dorm mate insists on playing the Beatles’ “Let it be” every time she takes a dump in the en-suite.

Likewise, with local lad I’ve liked for a long time, the reality is that after 16 years we would both be very much settling for each other. Ok, I mean I’d be settling as obviously I believe my Mum when she says that any man would be lucky to have me. So he would in fact be winning at life.

Sexy selfie guy is a thing of beauty. He is seriously drop-dead-dreamy. If he was a Dream Phone card, he’d be Steve. He’s outrageously accomplished, intelligent and has a strong group of genuinely great, nicely normal friends. Despite his connections and London lifestyle, he hasn’t succumbed to the “bottle-wanker” culture of most guys who are similarly successful.

We originally had a week-long holiday fling in Dubai, which has since been interspersed with his suggestions of holidays that never happened, casual catch-ups, late night airport pick-ups, Facetime fumbles and (in my case, ten-chin) selfies. Having originally told my girlfriends that he was a selfish lover (bit awks as he overheard), he has since been gallantly throwing me around a variety of bedrooms for the past two years. The reality is though, that despite all his beauty and Adonis-like qualities, this was merely an extended holiday fling of no actual substance.

Had he have liked me enough to make a real effort, or really any actual effort, would it have made a difference? Quite possibly, as I am attracted to men who think I’m as great as my Mum does, but who knows? We’ve used each other for confidence boosts and bedroom antics, but ultimately the fun frolicking made me feel cheap each and every time he left. The fuck and fuck off thing isn’t my style, no matter how you dress it up with an avocado on toast the next day. I told him outright that I think he’s hot but I just don’t fancy him. I think we are still friends…

With regards to the local lad I’d liked for a long time, I fully understand his frustration with me – I’m never in the country! He thinks that when I am home I expect everything to be put on hold and everyone to work around me. In part this is completely, selfishly true. But if I’ve been considerate and organised enough to make plans with someone two months in advance of coming home, then yes, it is courteous to keep them. As he’s only lived locally, what he fails to see is that I’ve spent years prioritising him. I book dates in the diary for when I’m back, but if you cancel an hour before we are due to meet (with outrageously limp excuses) when my time visiting my family and friends is so precious, and I’ve just shaved those hard to reach areas, I’m going to lose as much interest in you as you obviously have in me.

I always thought of him as a good friend but I’ve realised its one sided and I’d mistaken longevity of friendship for a meaningful friendship. It will always make me smile that he knew me so well during the “Hollie-bush” era of my late teens, and I’ll always be sad that it stopped being that fun and that “free”! We both messed up. Given that my ideal man checklist once extended only to being local, family-orientated, sociable and having brown hair, it could have been his for the taking.     

*Back catalogue now decluttered, dating detox carried out, productive day underway. Now to trot around Greenwich Village.

**Lads if you are reading this, bit awks, soz.

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Hollie Day

Hollie by name, HollieDay by nature. Join me on my journey, husband hunting on my holidays.