The Games Girls Play (With Themselves)

I’ve known myself for 20 years and I’d like
to think that I now understand my body inside and out.  That distinct freckle on my right wrist, the
small box shaped scare just above my knee, the way I hate the sound of nails
being filed and how I’ve slowly learnt to control my anxiety when I
feel it creeping on.
However there have been situations lately
that have made me question how much control I actually have over myself, in
particular my emotions. Meeting a new guy is a trigger that takes the cake. You
see you think you’re in control of your life until you meet a shiny, brand-new
guy because as far as you know he’s the most perfect person on the planet. He
probably flosses without thinking about it, tells the most hilarious jokes,
would get along famously with your girlfriends and your parents, he sure
wouldn’t hesitate to buy you expensive jewellery for your birthday not to
mention a pony for your first anniversary. A new guy is as flawless as Celine
handbag filled with hand crafted praline and nude polaroid’s of Ryan Gosling.
Of course we know this isn’t true, because
on the first date he forgot to walk you right to your door- not just the front
gate. And his nose is slightly crooked and the his watch is a nock off but
compared to the other men in your life he might as well be Paul Walker driving
a Maserati with your initials in his number plate.
It is the hours that pass after the
first date that can be the biggest test for any woman. In my experience, all the things that he did
wrong the first time you met start to fade away and no matter what you do you
cant help but wonder what he thinks about you. Did he notice that pimple on
your face which you spent hours squeezing, soothing then suppressing under
copious amounts of concealer? Could he barely contain himself as you walked
away from him flicking your hair to the left in one swift motion? And the most
painful, annoying and frustrating question of all is- if and when will he decide to contact you again? 
This is the part when I start to question
if I know anything about myself at all. Did I literally just turn my phone on
silent, put it in a sock and then transfer it into a box and hide it in my
underwear draw- so that I would refrain from checking it? Did I actually just
fabricate urgent plans within the vicinity of my house so I could leave my
phone at home yet not feel that I was far enough away from my phone incase I
witnessed a murder and had to call 000 off the phone which is wrapped in a sock
inside a box deep in my underwear draw? And did I really just write that
sentence which makes absolutely no sense because I was thinking about checking
my phone instead of monitoring my sentence structure?
These are all questions that force me to ask
if I am a driven, sophisticated and together career woman or a raging lunatic
that needs to be put in a mental institution.
The important thing is that we realise at the
end of the day, how brave we are as single women venturing into the unknown in
the name of love, or lust. There is a great possibility that if we like someone
we will lose our shit once or twice along the way. Ironically, the truth is
that- the intensity of the feeling you get when he does actually send you a “grand gesture” is in
exact proportion to the amount of times you nearly threw your phone into the
street while waiting for it. And well if he doesn’t call, its his loss
anyway. In the words of the great Morcheeba: It’s all part of the process. 

Miss P
About me

Heaven on Bourke is a lifestyle blog created by Miss P, a twenty-something author of a Pleasure Guide pamphlet most commonly found in luxe vibrator boxes. True story! She loves to travel between her beachy hometown of Noosa and London's upmarket Notting Hill, where she writes a smut column for a lingerie empire. Off duty, Miss P brunches in the city and dates many interesting characters. All findings on real life, sex and love are recorded in this honest lifestyle blog for your viewing pleasure. Enjoy gorgeous!

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