You know the drill. You meet someone. You send them some super sassy Tinder one-liners. They’re repelled but agree to meet you anyway.
Next thing you know you’re sharing a family size bag of Doritos on the sofa and haven’t shaved your legs in 6 weeks.
I’ve had my fair share of long-term relationships over the years. The one where I got replaced by a Japanese pen-pal, the one that eventually ended with a Skype call (twenty-first century riddle – is this better or worse than being ditched by text?) and current bed-partner who thus far I’m considering keeping.
Although that is 90% to do with him having Netflix login credentials.
Girl only on episode 9 0f Making A Murderer afterall.
Seeing as it’s Valentines Day soon and I’m a true romantic (obvs) I decided to re-tell our love story (and the story of everyone whose ever dated for more than 3 months).
- We are so in love, I want to spend every waking minute with you. Who needs friends? EVERYTHING IN LIFE IS A SUBSTITUTE FOR LOVE <3 XOXOX
- Wait. What. You can’t use a washing machine?
- Oh go on then, I’ll iron all your shirts, cook you dinner and do you washing. All those feminist ideals lookin’ real cute right now bbz.
- No but seriously, your mum has so much to answer for.
- Screw this, you can do all the house-admin.
- RE. my previous statement. Partially because I’m a huge control freak (you aren’t allowed to call me this, only I can use this term) and partially because I CANNOT stomach another night of pesto pasta, I’ll start helping with the cooking again…
- I have just spent my Saturday ironing shirts. 17-year-old me, I’m so sorry.
- How did I ever think he was out of my league? I’ve just seen him cut his toenails in the sink.
- WHY hasn’t he text me in 3 hours? Maybe he’s spontaneously gone off me…
- If he dumps me then I definitely get to keep the bed linen.
- Must make more effort *Book a wax*
- Cancel said wax because turns out there was just a bad football result and actually he has not gone off me, nor my six-months of hair growth.
- Booked a holiday to New York. I wonder if he is going to propose.
- Wait. Do I want him to propose? Do I never want my GP to ask disapproving questions about my promiscuous sex life ever again?
- If he does bloody propose, it better not be on top of a skyscraper. All the hair issues. And those photos need to be Facebook approved.
- No really, no babies. No husband. No mortgage. I want to do Jaeger shots and eat McDonalds on the pavement.
- I’m so glad I have a boyfriend so I can justify adult nights in without alcohol eating clean and catching up on box-sets.
- I got really fat.
- That guy at work in IT. Was he always that good looking?
- Maybe I should reclaim my womanhood and dump him? That’d teach him to leave his wet towels on the bed. Bet the guy in IT hangs his towels.
- Oh look you made me beans on toast when I’m hungover. You really are a keeper.
Dress – Warehouse via ASOS