Tag Archives: Hot-Cold

Brazilian adeus

After fantastic sex on Saturday we indulged in pillow talk during which The Brazilian hinted that she has a fear of commitment. It stemmed from her childhood and her parent’s unhappy marriage. That’s not too unusual as I’ve met several woman on my dates with similar stories, but I want to proceed with caution and my eyes wide open. I realize that I don’t really know much about her history, so on Monday I decide to go digging. We keep repeating our history until we learn from it.

I found The Brazilian’s Facebook page and saw that her favourite male character from ‘Sex and the City’ (her treasured show) was Aidan. Strangely, that’s my second name. I read up on this character and other than him making furniture and having a kid, I am Aidan in character but less of a doormat. It’s freaky.

She listed on Facebook her two favourite movies as being ‘Out of Africa’ and ‘The Way We Were’. The stories both end in a similar fashion: the relationships fail and the woman is left feeling abandoned. I find that quite telling and take it as something of a red flag. However, I notice something about both storylines: the protagonists are separated for a while before being re-united and their romance resumes before ultimately failing.

Is this her style of relationship? Is this what she likes doing to men? Is this why she asked me on our second date what my favourite type of movie ending is?

When it got to that time of night when Busty Blonde and I would talk on the phone, a little part of me would dread it and then be relieved when the call was over. With The Brazilian I can’t wait to call her; I feel like a pimple-faced teenager all over again. I can’t wait to hear her voice, but I don’t know what we’ll talk about and I don’t really care. We’ll start off with “Hello…” and take it from there.

I have to draw on all the skills that I’ve acquired over the past two years in order to keep The Brazilian. She’s a massive challenge because of her commitment fear, something I can really do without, but hopefully it’s temporary. I don’t want it to become the focus of our relationship; I want mutual love and respect to be our axis.

I phoned her on Monday night, we had a pleasant enough chat – well, it was her venting about a bad customer mostly. I spoke to her about the Farnborough Air Show, something I had mentioned the previous day and her response seemed lukewarm at best. I then asked about getting together the coming weekend. Her response was, “Well, I’ve been invited to a birthday party on the Saturday night, so I’ll probably go to that. I’ve also been invited to a kiddies birthday party on the Sunday. I usually don’t go to those, but this one I might.”

This kiddies party was different because a customer who had stopped doing business was going to be there and The Brazilian wanted this person to feel awkward. Now if she would rather do that than see me, then that tells me loads; she’s vindictive and can be confrontational. She also doesn’t know who or what is good for her. It also tells me that I’m not a high priority. Of course I’m accepting at face value that she’s telling me the truth. Ah, my good ol’ trust demon furrows his hairy brow, his dark eyes glow as he grips the bars of his cage and starts tugging at them…

“Okay, no problem, “ I say. Of course it was a problem. I want to see her again but I get the impression from her words and their tone that she isn’t exactly chomping at the bit to see me again. I’m making that old mistake of getting too invested in a woman I liked too quickly. Old habits die hard, but I can’t help getting carried away like an excited little boy on Xmas eve. I know what I want and I want it as quickly as possible. Seen logically, the prudent thing to do is to re-activate my dating profiles and keep my options open. That way I don’t allow myself to become too attached too soon which might spook her and result in pain for me.

I ended the call on Monday night saying that it was her turn to call me. Let’s see how long it takes before she calls me. I’m going to give her time and space to miss me. I won’t initiate any kind of communication on Tuesday. If I don’t hear from her at all on Tuesday, then late that night I’ll go on to the dating sites where I switched my profiles off last week and start creating options. I use that word ‘option’ because that is exactly how I’m starting to feel to her.

I would love to have the chance to say to her, “Isn’t time you let go of an idea you told yourself to believe a long time ago when you were a little girl? We all hold on to ideas that actually hold us back from getting what we want. Your ideas about commitment are wrong and redundant. They have not served you well. Don’t you think it’s time to leave them behind and move onto something more useful?”

Tuesday and I’m writing about Krazy Girl for my blog. A part of me is becoming very aware of the similarities between Krazy Girl and The Brazilian: coming on all fiery and excited in the beginning then suddenly blowing cold and then disappearing. Is the excellent sex impairing my judgement again? I’m struck by another similarity between the two in that Krazy Girl went to great pains to keep my existence secret and, although it’s only been ten days with The Brazilian, she told me that she has informed nobody of my existence too. I need to proceed slowly and with caution, not just to avoid scaring her off, but to protect myself.

I go on to Tinder to re-read my messages with The Brazilian, looking for clues and see that she was active on it 3 days ago and had removed one photo and replaced it with another. Why do that if you think you’ve met somebody? You wouldn’t. I have to accept that her fear of commitment is a massive problem and that I should start taking steps to protect myself from possible harm. I’ll cool it with her, let her do more of the running by way of initiating contact and see what happens.

It dawned on me today that so far she has not said anything or done anything that indicates that she’s interested in a relationship. Over the course of the day there was absolutely no contact between us. I was determined to not initiate communication. She can make an effort too.

Relationships and effort.
Relationships and effort.

I’m wondering if she was unimpressed by my place. It didn’t fit in with her expectation. Most women have an idea that they generate in their own heads about what a guy’s place will be like, because it’s part and parcel with their fantasy of the perfect man coming along out of nowhere and, of course, he’s rich too. It’s a great fantasy and most women buy into it and many live their lives according to it. My place is basic, it’s not fancy or flash in any way. Has it done it’s job of warding off another gold-digger?

Late on Tuesday night, during the World Cup game in which Brazil was losing five nil at half-time to Germany, she sent me a Whatsapp message that said, “You do know that I’m half German?” I left it a few minutes and responded with “Call me.” She didn’t call.

I remember her saying that she wants an easygoing, drama-free relationship. I took that to mean that she has only known the opposite of this. I now see that she is the cause of the drama. This hot-cold treatment I’ve seen before and I don’t like it. I’m too old for silly fucking games.

I’m starting to think her primary interest in me is sexual. Anything else is just noise. So be it; as long as I know the score. I won’t go getting my hopes up; the likelihood of disappointment is high. A pity, because I really like her.

Wednesday and I’ve seen that she’s been active on Whatsapp over the course of the day when I’ve gone on it to chat with friends. Yes, I would check when last she had logged on too and it was as often as me at a minimum. So, no real communication in two days. I’m feeling angry and I go onto Tinder, reactivate it and get a match within minutes and started swapping messages. I go on to a few of my trusted free dating sites and reactivate my profiles. I write to two new women on PoF.

I’ve started to subscribe to the expression that people come into our lives for a reason, a season or a lifetime. My instincts now tell me that it is going to just be the first reason with The Brazilian. The fact that she had not lived with a boyfriend since 2002, when she was 26, I should have taken as a massive red flag. She clearly has issues about commitment and relationships because I think it’s only natural to want to live with somebody if you love them.

The Brazilian’s obviously not relationship material. Does she revel in self-sabotage so that she can get her kicks out of feeling scorned? How many men has she done this to and how many more will experience this?

How many more women like her will I encounter? What percentage of women are like her? The mistake was obviously mine in that I still emotionally believe that having sex with someone is an act of commitment. I should know better by now. I have an increased need to want to visit a STD clinic now.

Thursday and I resolve that if I do hear from her again, I’ll wait that amount of time to get back to her. I’ve been so bothered by her behaviour, the blowing hot then cold, that I’ve done some research on the internet about it. The common advice is to leave her be, then only contact her as often as she contacts me. An interesting article contended that physical attraction has a very short use-by date and should best be exploited as quickly as possible.

However, I have to face facts. Nobody’s that busy that they can’t call or text me. She’s just not that into me. The way I feel about her now is largely disappointment. I’m also feeling a little foolish in myself. Connecting with someone on Tinder seems to be just about the sex. If I never hear from her again I won’t be too surprised or disappointed. I shouldn’t have got my hopes up like I did. Stupid Boy. Stupid, stupid boy…

Friday drifts by and I don’t look at anything involving The Brazilian. Swapping messages with other prospects feels tedious; I’ve had the wind knocked out of my sails. On Saturday morning, out of boredom and frustration, I go on to Tinder to see who was out there. I flick over to The Brazilian’s profile to see that she had logged on at 11pm the previous night.

Monday night and to my great surprise The Brazilian phones me at 9.30pm. She tells me that a troublesome customer had really upset her the previous week and she was having sleepless nights because of it. To boot she also had a cold and spent most of Saturday sleeping, not going to her friend’s party on the Saturday night nor the kiddies birthday party on the Sunday. The conversation was mostly her venting about her bad customer and unthinking staff. I found it boring, but had mastered the art of saying “uh-huh” with other women many years ago. She seemed still keen to go to the Farnborough Air Show on the coming weekend. The conversation ended after an hour – our longest chat via phone yet – with her saying twice, “We’ll speak soon, yes?”

I was pleased to hear from her and very surprised because I thought she was lost to me. I’m sure that there’s lots that she’s not telling me. I think this period of silence between us will do me a lot of good. I am looking forward to seeing her again.

I think I’ll surprise her with my red sports car and then we’ll have a nice barbecue with my friends. Depending on the weather we’ll either see the airshow on the Saturday or the Sunday. I hope it’s the former because I’ll then have an excuse to sleep over. I don’t expect sex, but it would be nice to feel her fall asleep in my arms.

If my reading of the situation is correct, then her phoning me was a massive act of commitment on her part. The way she said “speak soon”, the almost pleading tone, which surprised me, is a sign that she really wants to see more of me. I’m very happy to oblige. I’m already thinking of taking her to the Bristol Balloon Festival.

I didn’t phone her on the Tuesday as I didn’t want to seem too keen again, but besides that, there was little new to discuss. On the Wednesday night I spoke to my friend about the upcoming Farnborough Air Show and the weather forecast is rainy, except for the Sunday afternoon. I called The Brazilian at 8.15pm and ended up leaving a voice message. I then sent her a Whatsapp message just to make sure. Then I realised it was a Wednesday night, it’s when she seems to disappear. Peter Sarstedt said it best, “Where do you go to my lovely?”

I saw on Whatsapp that she logged on at 10.15pm and saw my message. I was tempted to phone her, not expecting her to answer because I would probably hear train noise in the background or a restaurant scene. My trust demon insists that she was on a date with another guy.

I now don’t trust The Brazilian at all. This is going to fizzle out quickly so I need to make the most of what’s on offer. If I do get to spend a night with her again, I’m going to slip on a condom and fuck her in the arse because that’s all she’s showing herself to be good for. If I’m really lucky and naughty, I might film this with my phone as a keepsake. I didn’t get to do that with Krazy Girl and so badly would have loved to have a video of me fucking her.

The similarity of this situation is not lost on me. Sweet Thing was followed by Krazy Girl, almost two identical sets of relationship styles – submissive and compliant followed by unavailable and difficult. Is Life playing games with me too? Is there something that I’m being shown for a second time for a reason? Is there a vital life-lesson somewhere in all of this that I’m missing?

On Thursday The Brazilian sends me a message on Whatsapp saying that she had developed tonsillitis and that it is very contagious so we won’t be going anywhere on the weekend. I texted her back asking if she would like any company over the weekend. No response for several hours. Then it dawned on me; she’s not interested in me. All the silence, the excuses were just her way of trying to brush me off. I know what a woman is like when she is interested in me and this isn’t it. I feel like an unwanted puppet on the end of her string.

I send her this Whatsapp message: “Sorry, I’ve been a bit slow on the uptake…message understood…you won’t be hearing from me again…good luck and goodbye.

It is the shortest and most brutal message of its kind I’ve ever sent, but it reflects my mood. I feel cold and numb inside, a familiar numbness that was starting to feel like an old acquaintance that will never be a friend.

Alone again…

LESSONS LEARNED: 1) It is now a fact to me that only by the end of the third date will you know if there will be a relationship. If there’s any doubt, then there’s no doubt. 2) We all have our own relationship style and for some people it is a negative one. 3) Tinder appears to be a hook-up app for people only interested in sex.

For anyone who is experiencing this hot/cold behaviour from someone then the following article will help:

Barbra Streisand – Memories (from ‘The Way We Were’)


I switch off all my dating profiles in an act of fidelity and decency. Pretty Teacher and I are off to a great start, although I’m not convinced that having sex on our second date was the best idea. Nevertheless, it’s happened and I need to move matters forward positively. Yes, I do have some misgivings about her OCD behaviour with her phone. I’m starting to think that OCD means ‘Obviously Confused & Damaged’. Is she?

We arrange to meet the following Saturday, first to watch a game of rugby in a pub, then to partake in a Guy Fawkes fireworks evening. Our banter on the phone each night is positive, upbeat and fun. I think that she’s a thoroughly good person, is someone I can trust and thus far all the signs are that we can be good together.

It’s the first Saturday in November and it’s a blustery one as I arrive at Pretty Teacher’s apartment complex. She summons me upstairs and I’m enthused by her wanting me to see her home. Her place is a two-bedroomed apartment that is very tastefully furnished. One bedroom is her office where she prepares her lessons and other teacherly stuff. Her bedroom has an enormous double bed in it. Will I be spending the night in it? I think it’s safe to assume so.

Again she insists that we go in her car to the same historic market town that we went to last weekend. Is repetition part of OCD behaviour? We find a bustling pub where we watch the game together, albeit sitting largely in silence, hardly talking to each other. I put this down to noisy environment we’re in. She struggles to sit still, is constantly fidgeting and I wonder if she also has ADHD. While I ponder this she grabs her phone and plays a round of online scrabble. At half-time I buy us hamburgers and drinks, which we eat in silence, barely making eye contact. I try to make conversation but her responses are curt to the point of rudeness.

My mind races, trying to figure out what’s going on here. We’ve spoken on the phone every night since Sunday, taking turns to call each other without having articulated plans to do so. I took that as a very good sign. Have I said something that has upset her? I’m not going to ask directly, but will rather let this date play out, let her show me her hand in her own sweet time. I’ll just be me, positive, light and fun. I’ve never been one for letting other people decide my mood.

It’s now early November so it’s gets dark early. The rugby game finishes, which England won against Australia, something that should make rugby-mad Pretty Teacher ecstatically happy, but instead she is still sombre. Is it perhaps because I didn’t gush about her home? I was impressed with it and said so, was that not good enough? What’s bugging her?

We make our way over to the stately home for the fireworks display. It’s blowing a gale and I won’t be surprised if the event is called off on health and safety grounds. On the phone the previous night we’d agreed that extra layers of clothing will be needed, so tonight we stand in a side-street near the venue getting changed into warmer gear that we’ve brought along. So, we both plan ahead and can stick to a plan. This is good, I can have a relationship with someone like that.

The wind is howling and it’s cold, damn cold. With my frame I dwarf her, so I offer to act as a windbreak, which she accepts. As we walk around looking at the stalls selling unspeakable plastic rubbish from China at ridiculous prices, I make an effort at all times to keep myself between Pretty Teacher and the wind. To warm us up I buy hot food and drinks which we consume in silence. Conversation is hard to come by, despite my best efforts. What the hell is going on in her head?

I’ve felt this feeling before, a feeling of confusion and of being scrutinized then rejected. I felt it with Country Girl and Musician Gal. In fact this whole experience so far is a replay of those encounters by way of it starting off with fireworks then quickly petering out. I’m starting to notice patterns here with certain types of women exhibiting types of behaviour that I now think of Hot-Cold. It was the same with Krazy Girl too.

I feel like just walking away because I’m starting to think that this is going nowhere. However, there could be a myriad of reasons for her offish behaviour, so I’m going to give her the benefit of the doubt. I also think she might be nervous about us having sex again. It could be anything; I won’t blow my chances by being impetuous. I’ll play it cool, be patient, be myself and let her come to me, physically and emotionally.

The fireworks display doesn’t last long and it’s a bit of a disappointment, just like this date so far. We go back to Pretty Teacher’s car and drive back to her place in silence. I’ve decided that she’s nervous about us having sex again and me spending the night. Maybe it’s all too fast for her? Maybe she’s such a Good Girl that what we did last Sunday is far beyond the realms of her dating or relationship experience.

Back at her place she invites me inside, but a part of me was wondering if she’d make some pithy excuse and I’d be going home alone. She makes me a coffee and we end up sitting side by side on her sofa…in silence and barely making eye contact. This reminds me of the time when I sat with Baltic Babe and all her confessions came out. Is the same about to happen?

“I’m sorry, but it’s late and I’m very tired,” she says, looking me in the eye with a strange look.

I’m not a hundred percent sure what she’s telling me, so I try to clarify with a question, a direct one which I try to put across as tactfully as I can.

“So does that mean I’m sleeping over or not?” I ask.

“Not, I’m afraid,” she replies with an apologetic expression on her face.

What the fuck is going on here?! That’s what I want to say, but I decide to be more dignified.

“Okay, not a problem,” is all I say.

I’m a bit surprised by this, I think about being even more direct and ask her what she’s thinking and feeling, but that would make me seem needy, something that is always a big no-no in any woman’s dating rulebook. We sit in silence staring into our nearly empty mugs of coffee.

I decide to act with dignity, so I get up, return the mug to the kitchen and make my way to the hallway to get my boots and jacket. Pretty Teacher is already there waiting for me, my jacket in her hands. I just smile as I put it on, trying to display some valour.

“I’ll give you a call tomorrow,” I say to her.

“Okay,” is all she says.

We kiss half-heartedly and I go downstairs to my car. On my drive home I’m absolutely fuming. What have I said or done, or NOT said or done to deserve this attitude from her?!

The next day I’ve calmed down to a simmer, telling myself all sorts of convenient lies to excuse Pretty Teacher’s actions and inactions. I tell myself that she just wants to take it slow, something I’m okay with. Then later in the evening I phone her as I had promised and the conversation is almost icy. Her answers are short and she asks no questions of her own. It feels like she doesn’t want to talk to me, wants me to get off the phone…wants me to fuck off and die. Then she surprises me.

“I’m off on Wednesday. Why don’t we go out for dinner? I’ll call you after lunchtime to finalise details as I’m seeing my friends for lunch,” she suddenly says.

This catches me totally off-guard. I agree to her idea and we say goodbye. I lie on my bed, phone in hand, feeling flummoxed by her frustrating, contradictory words and actions. One minute I’m being ignored, the next I’m in demand. I don’t appreciate being treated like this. I start to feel angry. I’m tired of women jerking me around like I’m a monkey on the end of a chain.

At 11PM my phone burps and I assume it’s Pretty Teacher, texting me a goodnight message, perhaps even an apology. I can’t believe my eyes when I look at my phone. It’s a message from Krazy Girl.

I’m horny!

I’m astounded. I haven’t seen her in almost three months. The last contact I had with Krazy Girl was when I wished her a happy birthday six weeks ago. Things have felt done and dusted between us since we last saw each other. I was never expecting to hear from her again. I feel a little bit excited, while also feeling confused, wary and very surprised.

I take a moment to think about things. I think about Pretty Teacher and how it feels like she’s just put me on an emotional roller-coaster. I don’t deserve what she’s doing to me. I think about my Exgf and my pledge to tell her if I’ve slept with anybody else, but remember her leading me on a merry dance for five years. She had the best of me, now she can have the worst of me. I think about the fantastic sex I’ve had with Krazy Girl. I send her a reply.

Be at mine tomorrow at 9am.

Katy Perry – Firework