So it’s been a while since I wrote about the hot Toy Boy. 8 weeks or so I think. And my goodness, time flies when you’re having (sort of) fun.
The bad? He’s also most definitely still 24.
Now, I know what you may be thinking. I knew this. It was no surprise. And you would be 100% correct.
When I met him, I loved the 24-ness of it all. OK, so it may have crossed my mind that it was a teeny bit creepy, and most definitely out of character (for me at least), but Toy Boy was fun and flirty and interesting and as I may have mentioned once or twice, RIDICULOUSLY hot. The hotness had me wanting to see him again. Messages were exchanged. The banter was good. I was enjoying myself. I’m not going to lie, I quite liked it.
I was looking for something to amuse me, and for weeks, he certainly did that. I smiled when my phone lit up with messages from him, I laughed when I saw what he’d sent. He was great. The slight immaturity of it all tickled me. He was the distraction I needed, the right person at the right time. He was ace.
But then, work stuff started to stress him out. And I sympathised…it was certainly stressful stuff. But the messages went from fun, to not very fun at all. We went from outrageous to ordinary. Instead of flirting, I was being overly nice. Ooops. Instead of heading towards potentially mind-blowing sex, we were heading (quickly) into the friend zone…
I found myself feeling almost protective of him. Not his fault…I wanted to make things easier. Instead of googling boutique hotels we could rush off to as soon as things calmed down, I found myself holding his hand and helping him with whatever I could, to stop any pouting. Silly really. We all know nice girls are JUST NOT SEXY. The eight year age-gap started to feel less exciting and the whole thing, well, a bit like babysitting. Without the fee. Rubbish.
Now don’t get me wrong. I didn’t mind helping him out. Toy Boy is INCREDIBLE. He is funny and clever and fabulously sexy and I could lose myself for a while in those eyes. But when I start to feel like someones big sister rather than the incredibly sexy older woman, I think it’s time to make some changes.
I’m not saying I’d never see him again. I’m just saying I’m not concentrating any effort on it anymore. If he’s worried about anything, he can call his Mum. If he wants to go for a drink, flirt and laugh a bit, he has my number.
But it’s not an unhappy ending. More like bad timing. He wasn’t an douche-bag. He didn’t do anything to upset me. He made me smile and he made me realise that in future, putting an age limit on something just doesn’t make sense. Which opens up a whole new dating pool. And I am definitely not complaining about that…
So. Will there be anymore Diaries from this Cougar? We shall have to wait and see.
Depends what present I get myself for Christmas!