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Now I am learning to make every minute a potential door to a date.I sit at the front of the bus and make eye contact with people rather than heading straight to the back, plugged into headphones or buried in a newspaper.On a 'date-hunting' night I would go out, not meet anyone special, and spend the long journey home on the tube thinking 'Well that was a complete waste of time', feel unattractive, a total failure as a human being, and vow never to do anything so soul-destroying again. Before each event I would resist the urge to just go home and hang out with my flatmates in front of the telly, telling myself: 'Tonight could be the night!
I went to dating evenings where everyone drank through a red straw to show that they were single and wanted to meet someone and I went to things supposedly populated by single people, even if they weren't advertised so explicitly, such as dance classes, acting classes, cooking lessons and even pub poker nights.' and this meant that every time I didn't meet someone, it made it even worse, my hopes built up, only to be dashed yet again.The more this happened, the more I found myself feeling miserable, convinced that nothing good was ever going to happen to my moribund love-life ever again, the more my face started to reflect my pain and growing desperation, and well, we all know how pain and desperation can be really attractive qualities to men.And I have never felt more single in my entire life.
From never minding being single at all, the fact that I was spending most of my time at singles events made me feel permanently, terminally single.One evening promised a fun-packed dinner with like-minded thirty-somethings, equally split between men and women.