Yeah nah. Probably both at the time.
I suppose I haven't dated for 7 or 8 years since the fartographer came into my life. And that was often an arms length relationship, but at least we knew each other's quirks.
I recently gave it a go with new people and was surprised at how little trust and faith is out there.
Case in point, a lovely little few roots into a new possible relationship, after a month or so's gentle flirting, and then I go and put a spinning sharp no. 2 phillips head bit into my left ring finger on a roofing job a month ago. With a lot of Nm applied through the cordless. If the bone hadn't been in the way it would definitely have come out the other side, nearly did anyway. It was nasty. But the next day when over the counter pain meds weren't fighting off the heartbeat pulses from a red hot healing bone I added half a bottle of Scotch to knock myself out, which worked well, but in the unfamiliar with this process lately I got chatty. TAN posts to apologise for and lots of lizard brain phone calls I don't remember. Sorry.
I got no sympathy from yummy mummy. I suppose it didn't help that by the time she saw it a bandaid was enough coverage for social moments and it looked like a lowly office papercut? But it wasn't. And I had to get proper jobs done. Folded napkins over it, wrapped in duct tape made that possible, but not pleasant.
A few weeks of unrequited pain, and then a sober weekend where all I wanted was to spend the weekend at home and cook the perfect crackling roast, and I turn the oven on and go upstairs to put a jumper on. Coming back down I get the last step wrong and slip in my cheaparsed not actual angora ebay socks. And I'm coming down on my left side but my first instinct is to raise my left hand to protect the finger rather than down to save myself. So now I've got a bunch of cracked ribs to boot. And **** me, aren't I a cranky ****? **** knows how I'm gonna get **** done. I felt one crack worse last week when I tried working. At least teaching is survivable, although whiteboard action sucks the balls.
Oh, and she's got the balls to text 'are u ok' when a mate mentions it to her sat'dy night after two weeks of studied avoidance? **** off.