My mind was busy being consumed by Zeus #9 for months after Zeus #8 walked away. When that ended and I had time to reflect, and #8 popped back into my mind. My behaviour towards him was very unlike me, so I feared how he might react towards me if I contacted him out of the blue. Firstly, I sussed him out on Facebook (a.k.a Stalkbook). Looked at a few of his photos (still looking amazing), checked his updates and read some of his wall entries. My detective work led me to believe he had moved to the other side of the country. Therefore was there really a point trying to patch things up?

A couple of months later his name randomly appeared in my inbox. His email was very brief – consisting of just one word “Hi”. Assuming he was testing the waters, I was quick to inform the H2O was still very warm. We communicated back and forth a few times. He had moved away for work but still regularly came home. There was no mention of catching up and no flirty behaviour. Again, I kept my emotions secure and made no attempt to make him aware of my feelings.

Only two weeks ago Zeus #8 re-entered my mind. Over coffee with a few girlfriends I reminisced about my time with him and my regret in not allowing him to see the real me – a person who was just as passionate and emotional as he was. The next part of this journey I will leave up to you to analyse.

Last weekend as I hosted an event for 180 clients, he walked in the door. Unannounced, uninvited, unaware. My heart, my legs and my head all began to spin in different directions. My initial reaction was to hide and I did. For two hours I tried to avoid his side of the room, fearful of choking on my words if confronted by him. By the time he saw me and found an appropriate gap in my run sheet to approach me, I’d calmed down and planned our entire conversation in my head. We caught up, laughed, and relived our memories. He was exactly as I had remembered him. If not better. As the night was wrapping up, he gave me a big cuddle and lovely kiss on the cheek and walked out the door. I stood there bewildered, wondering whether his random appearance was a coincidence or a sign.

I’ve been waiting a week now for my phone to ring, hoping he’d analysed our meeting as the beginning path towards a second chance. Silence. Should I call? Finally put myself out there and tell him I f$%#ed up?

For now I won’t call. I don’t believe in going backwards. However does seeing him last week now put it forward? The jar is still open………….

[Defection: the act of abandoning a person or cause to which one has an obligation or allegiance]

He made my heart melt, took my breath away, left me speechless and gave me that sinking feeling one gets in their stomach when they’ve met true love (and this was all before we said our first words to each other). I admit I love men and drool over a good looking, fit, well groomed Zeus. My close friends will vouch that quite often I proclaim “he’s the man of my dreams”, “we are supposed to spend the rest of our lives together” and “I need to be with him” based only on pure Zeus sightings. Yes maybe I’m a tad flippant with my words and become overly excited even before I’ve discovered whether he can string a sentence together, but he was really really cute!

Zeus #8 was different. The second I saw him one Sunday afternoon at the local pub I knew my life would never be the same again. He was tall, dark haired, and his tanned skin in the middle of winter made his piercing blue eyes stand out a mile away. When he showed off his very straight pearly whites, his dimples stretched from ear to ear. The girls kept encouraging me to introduce myself, but that has never been my style. I am sure I have missed opportunities to date potential men because of my stubbornness to be the first to approach. Lucky for me on this occasion Zeus #8 came forward.

He was just as dreamy close up, oozed sex appeal and had a very cheeky personality to match. We hit it off instantly and for the rest of the afternoon, and into the evening, we did not leave each others side. Within a week we were on our first date. He had chosen the restaurant and insisted on picking me up. He parked the car not too far from our awaiting table. Before I could even lift my legs from the passenger seat and throw my hand bag over my shoulder he was by my side. His keenness was obvious. We were only required to walk 10 steps to get to our destination yet he still felt the need to grab hold of my hand.

I am completely fine with public displays of affection and I like nothing more than a man who is willing to show his girlfriend off to the world. But I have first date rules. I thought maybe he could be excused because of his handsome looks and puppy dog eyes, but no it freaked me out, probably more than it should have. I’ll have to go back a few steps to explain……

There was actually another Zeus on the scene before Zeus #8 surfaced, however the Zeus #9 story does not end till long after Zeus #8 disappeared.  At the time of meeting #8 I was two weeks into my new life. Zeus #9, whom I had met some nine months earlier had made the indefinite move overseas and in the process told me I was a free agent. Parting from him physically was difficult; parting from him mentally was even harder, especially when while I was starting to find myself again, SMS’s from Santorini saying “I wish you were here” were flowing.

As I sat on my first date as a ‘free’ agent with Zeus #8 I still felt very much connected to Zeus #9. I’d already sussed out the entire restaurant to ensure there were no familiar faces who could report back to Zeus #9. I even positioned my seat so any one walking past who might know me would not recognise me. Although free to do as I pleased I felt like I was cheating on Zeus #9. This is all whilst he was off gallivanting through the Greek Islands and Ibiza doing no doubt a lot less innocent things than getting to know someone new over a glass of wine and a nice meal. 

He paid the bill and we decided to take a stroll down to the beach. As he reached out to hold my hand a quick decision needed to be made. I accepted. The jar was now open. By taking his hand I felt I had chosen to open up, move on, and give this a proper chance. 

FINALLY! A guy who said what he wanted, showed what he wanted and demonstrated massive signs of potential. He would call everyday without fail. Sometimes up to four times. If we were not together at night I would receive a “wish I was lying there next to you” SMS and if we were not together in the morning I would receive “good morning gorgeous girl”. This kind of attention took some adjusting to on my part. A girl can get used to being adored, can’t she?

We did dinners with his best mates, attended sporting events, movies, went for walks and coffees. Even when he was close to his death bed he would ensure our plans went ahead as scheduled. The public display of holding hands, rubbing my leg, constant hugging and touching continued. I found myself at times wriggling out of the situation, still holding fear of bumping into one of Zeus #9’s acquaintances.  

Being around Zeus #8 made me really happy. He oozed happiness and positive energy. But there was something missing and at the time for me it was simple – he was not Zeus #9. I’d be at home on a lazy Sunday night wishing Zeus #9 would contact me from overseas. My phone would beep. I’d jump up to view the screen and it would be Zeus #8. I would always respond to his messages and never turn down a date, but I did not put in the effort I should have.

Then one Friday came along. It was midday and my phone had not yet beeped. Night fell and still nothing. Saturday and Sunday came along and still silence. Looking back now I should have made an enquiry into Zeus #8’s sudden muteness. But I didn’t. Monday came around and he called (this was the longest time in three months I had not heard from him). He’d lost his job and the debt collectors were very close to knocking down his door. Very politely he said he needed time to sort himself out and when times were tough his nature was to hide in his shell. “I’ll give you a call in a few more days. We will catch up over the weekend”.

That was 10 months ago….his name never flashed up on my mobile again.

When I think back to it I tell myself he needed to get his feet back on the ground and did not want to take me along for the bumpy ride. That was the gentlemanly thing to do. He probably did me a favour. However, I learnt when something refreshing and different in life presents itself to you, whether it is an employment opportunity, a guy or holiday idea, don’t brush it to the side because you think what you already have in your life is adequate. Don’t sit back hoping things will fall into place. Don’t day dream over the romantic love-filled words a guy is trying to imprint on to your brain, when there is no action to back it up. Whilst Zeus #9 was bronzing and boozing overseas, I sat at home hoping he would return and fall into my arms.

Zeus #8 was worth fighting for, but I never did. I let him walk out of my life. I did not support him through his bumpy ride. I showed no care or sympathy. This is one of my few regrets in life. For the first time in my life the jar was taken away from me, before I had time to close it myself. My mind was consumed by someone else. Someone whose mind was consumed with so many other issues he did not have space for me.

Even after he had clearly humiliated himself, embarrassed me, lied, cheated, and ignored me, Zeus #7 still thought it was acceptable to contact me. Through his calls, emails and SMS’ he acted like nothing was wrong. Initially I responded and played along with his game, then enough was enough and I quite abruptly and rudely attempted to once and for all put a hole in the bubble he was floating in.

Zeus #7 listened and understood. Told me I was an amazing person and I knew where to find him if I ever felt like our friendship could get back on track. Finally – silence.

Two weeks later he SMSed. I ignored. A week after that he SMSed again. I ignored. On both occasions he was asking me to do a favour for him, like I owed him something. I’d not seen him in over a year, asked him to never contact me, and still he did not get the picture.

Maybe I was the best thing that ever happened in his life and giving up on me was not an option. This is my blog and I’m therefore allowed to make unrealistic assumption (because it makes ME feel better). Ultimately though I really didn’t care much for his reasoning. For the first times in my Zeus history, a guy and the reason behind his behaviour did not interest me in the slightest.

Recent statistics claims the ratio of men to women worldwide is 50.34% to 49.66% (thank you, Google). I am no statistician however through life experience this ratio seems inaccurate.  If I had a dollar for every time I heard single women say ‘where are all the men?’ I would be very wealthy (and this does not even include all the times I’ve said it or thought it). Are they all married, hiding in caves, gay or living in far away countries?

The fear of a shortage of men can make a women partake in immoral behaviour. If it is not already a clinically proven physiological disorder then I will make it one. After countless dating attempts, a lull of male attention, visiting new Saturday night hang outs and accepting invites to parties one would usually run from, I went where no woman should go – my ex’s good mate.

Yes bad move, but I was convinced there were no more decent single men left in the world. What’s a single woman to do when she starts to get a little desperate for some loving?

We met and hung out years back when things were still on with my ex. He was sly, mischievous, cheated on all his girlfriends but had a cheeky, flirty, intriguing nature about him too. We were always good mates but I’d never felt attracted to Zeus #7.

Three years had passed since my break-up. The wounds were healed. The game was back on.

It was an unplanned girlie Sunday afternoon at the local pub. The sun was shining, the vodka/sodas were flowing, eyes were wandering. I spotted Zeus #7 out of the corner of my eye. I’d not seen him in years and was unsure how he’d react to seeing me. He was, after all, not my friend. One tends to become quite protective of THEIR friends when a relationship breaks up. I remember my ex attempting to befriend my friends on Facebook not long after our split. He’d broken my heart, ruined a long-term relationship, crushed my dreams and then attempted to steal my friends! Okay, so maybe I was being a little dramatic but my friends were my friends. He had no right to claim them as his friends as well.

The sky grew darker and the vodkas started to sink in and strangely the proximity of Zeus #7’s crew and my crowd became closer. So close in fact I found myself sitting on his lap laughing about old times. Suddenly he was not my ex’s mate anymore but a rather cute, single, fit man whose energy and blood was pumping.

The jar was handed over. This time it was in the form of a vodka/soda with fresh lime. The second I choose to accept the drink from his hands I was accepting him into my life. Was I about to embark on this journey to perhaps gain revenge on my ex?

It felt really wrong for the first few weeks and because our one thing in common was my ex it was hard to steer clear of conversations where his name surfaced. Zeus #7 (more so than me) was petrified my ex would find out. We both knew the ex would chop his balls off if he found out he so much as took a breath in my direction. This however did not deter him from seeing me. The calls, emails and SMS’ were constant.

Most of our meetings were at my place, with the occasional few at his place. He was very uncomfortable with me being in his space. At times I felt he was living two different lives. I put this down to the fear of my ex finding out. We’d meet up after work, exercise, head back to my place for some hanky panky and then he’d head straight for the door. He would never stay for dinner nor would he partake in sleepovers (even if it was 3am). We were not ‘together together’ so he was free to do as he pleased, however a girl has a right to know if her shag is being shared around. I openly told him I was seeing other people and he constantly claimed he was not.

He kept coming back over and over and over. I was becoming an addiction for him. He would beg to see me and when I was up for it he would maul me. The staring into my eyes was at times frightening and there were moments where he was quite forceful. ‘No’ was not an option for him in the bedroom.

Some four months later I offered to help coordinate a fundraising event he was holding to raise money for his family who had succumbed to a tragic incident. It was a good cause and Zeus #7 meant a lot to me. A lot of my spare time was spent organising guest lists, auction items, venue set up and speech writing. Knowing how much it meant to Zeus #7’s family made the experience very rewarding. I even cut my annual girlie trip holiday short because Zeus #7 begged me to come home for the big event. So [stupidly], I did.

What Zeus #7 failed to mention in his begging was his ex-girlfriend was making an appearance at the fundraiser as well.  Whilst our affection towards each other was strictly forbidden in public, the body language between the two of them was definitely not. It did not take long to realise the ex from the past was still very much in the present. Where was she when we were all putting in the hard yards to get this event up and running for Zeus #7’s family?

By this stage of the evening I had done all I could do to help with the event, so I gathered my belongings and headed for safety. Zeus #7 followed me, begged me stay (the begging was getting boring). The harder I tried to hold back the tears the more frequent they flowed.

With his boyish charms he tried to explain he and his ex had only recently rekindled their romance and were still sleeping in separate beds. WTF! They were living together?! So where was she those times we fooled around in his bedroom? To my absolute horror he confessed she was cooking him dinner some four floors above us. The so-called bedroom I was meeting him in was not his apartment. And his so called ‘flatmate’ (who happened to be a mate who lived in his apartment block) made his facilities available whenever I was available. Like a pimp house!!

To top it all off a few weeks later I came face to face with Zeus #7 and his girlfriend at our local shopping mall. He stared straight through me, like you would a stranger.

The Zeus #7 jar was probably the easiest to break. A strong independent woman does not like to be made a fool. Lies and deception are weak and inexcusable.

Why do some men feel they can have the best of both worlds? Is a live-in girlfriend who cooks and cleans, does the housework and keeps his bed warm not enough? The moral of the story here is not that he was cheating on me. We were casual, we were never going to work, and we had no future. But if you are going to partake in casual relations then at least be honest about it and let the person involved make the decision as to whether or not they want to be part of it. Yes I was naïve and yes I took a massive risk losing the respect of an ex I still care for deeply. Was it worth it? Definitely not. My lame excuse for my poor behaviour – there are not enough single men in this town!

In true Zeus style, almost a year later something in Zeus #6’s mind ticked over and suddenly it became appropriate to contact me again. It was very out of the blue and maybe even a tad odd. Curious to see if he had taken to his new life, I took a slight detour from my looking into the future/no turning pack path and agreed to a date. As usual he picked me up; although this time he had a new male friend in the car – his dog. He treated this dog like royalty, like his very own child. The bond I suspect was probably part of his learning to nurture instead of being nurtured.

We ordered take out and sat on his couch without a mention of our year-long silence. He was flirty and touchy-feely and talked about himself and how amazing he was. I lasted 60 minutes (30 of which I did not listen to a word he said as I tried desperately to think of an escape plan). Secretly thanking my parents for the years they put me through acting school I put on one of the best theatrical performances to date. The yawns and the very tired eyes were followed by “must get to bed I have a really early start tomorrow morning”. He drove me home and I never saw him again.

A Zeus in a suit is always a turn on for me. So what better place for a lady to be in her element than the horse races? There is something so manly about a Zeus in a suit. The crisp white shirt, the tie wrapped tightly around his neck, the jacket that accentuates the shoulders. I know I am not alone on this. One only needs to witness the herd of women who flock to the track during the spring carnival to agree.

Eighty dollars up and a few bottles of bubbles later I found myself full of life and ready to dance the night away. All the girls were frocked up and ready to create some mischief. We’d spent hours at the races flirting in the attempt to find some nice men to follow us to our next destination. We were unsuccessful, but the night was young.

As I was rounding up the troops to make an exit from the races I met Zeus #6. He was surrounded by women at the time. The group of girls he was hanging out with had joined forces with my crowd. Funnily enough though he was unattached and very keen to openly flirt with me.  We chatted and laughed. In such a short amount of time he’d already ticked an array of boxes. We exchanged numbers and then like any other time numbers are exchanged you continue living life and if he calls he calls.

So off I ventured with the girls for our post-races shenanigans, on the look-out for more men (suited or otherwise). The pub was filled with intoxicated men who by this late stage of the evening were only interested in groping arse and staring at boob. Whilst I am all for bodily attention from the male species I do like to have a chat (and at least be able to identify a man by his name and suburb of residency). Five pinches on the back side later my mobile screen lit up – Zeus #6. And like a perfect Prince Charming, within minutes he arrived outside the pub. As I climbed into my chariot the jar pretty much fell into my lap. He whisked me away to feed my grumbling boozed-up belly. Jar opened, I was intrigued.

We hit it off immediately. He seemed to really understand women. He even offered to drive me to the shopping mall on the weekend and accompany me shoe shopping. Had he not have tried to get me into bed that night I probably would have thought he was gay. He would have made an awesome gay best friend.

We dated for about three months, however it took only a few weeks to realise he had no male mates. All his friends were female. Every time his phone rang or we bumped into a friend out on the town it was a woman. Now I am by no means a jealous type but I did wonder why it was he had so many female friends.

As women we all know a girl or two who aren’t too choosy when it comes to picking their weekly shag. This kind of behaviour usually results in putting a lot of friends off-side, which in turn ends in silent treatment, back stabbing, bitching or another commonly established female behaviour. Whilst this is common in female circles, have you ever heard of a guy being off-side with his mates for sleeping with too many women?

So I am not accusing Zeus #6 of being a moe (male hoe – I just made it up, like it?!) and if he was he needed more practice (because he was pretty lousy in that department), but what was the reason he related so well to women and so poorly to men?

A few nights a week he would pick me up and take me to fancy restaurants recommended to him by his wealthy clients. He never once let me pay and was always very gentlemanly. Things started to become a smidgen clearer when we were out having a night-cap one evening and a mutual friend spotted us. She came sprinting to our table and attempted to analyse the path that bought Zeus #6 and I together (embarrassing). She then loudly proceeded to enquire after my “boyfriend”. She was referring to my ex from 3 years earlier – Zeus #1 (humiliating). And whilst the last time I saw her socially I was still dating Zeus #1 the inappropriateness and timing of her enquiry was without a doubt a ‘back off’ bitch threat. Ahh, women! Aren’t we grand?!

Everyone deserves a fair go though, right? So I continued dating Zeus #6. I was very much enjoying being spoiled and lusted after. He was available on any day at any time. He was never caught up watching footy and having a beer with the boys. Quietly, I was enjoying having someone who really did not have much of a social life outside our dates.

Ever had trouble getting your man to communicate and tell you what is on his mind? Red wine is the true medicine to opening up a man’s head and heart. Over a bottle and a half of shiraz one evening on the couch, Zeus #6 began to divulge his inner insecurities. Whilst I’m happy to share these, don’t freak out (and if you do, do it silently like I did).

Zeus #6 (along with Zeus #4 and #5 and yes I met these boys one after the other) had lost his father and never dealt with the pain. Having never had a male role model around, he never learnt how to ‘bond’ with his species. Whilst this does not explain his fascination with females, this next point might. His mother abandoned him when he was young. So as a substitute for motherly love and affection he found comfort in other women.

Zeus #6 never knew his family and never had birthday and Christmas celebrations. Coming from a very close family I found this quite difficult to fathom. A few weeks after our red wine chat he came rushing over to my place beaming like a little boy in a lolly shop. His long lost aunty had invited him interstate for Christmas and even though I had already told him my family would adopt him over the holidays, I eagerly encouraged him to go.

The day before he was due to leave we decided to have our own pre-Christmas picnic. We did a present exchange and ate delicious food but something was different between us. I put it down to the nerves and excitement of Zeus #6 finally, in his mid thirties, getting the opportunity to experience a family.

He was gone for two weeks and my phone did not ring once. Not a ‘Merry Christmas’ or a ‘Happy New Year’. My calls and SMS’ were ignored. The day he was due to return, still nothing. For some reason though, unlike past Zeus’ who conveniently forgot my number, I was not hurt or confused by Zeus #6’s actions. The day he took that drive interstate he was on a mission to find himself. The adventure could have gone two ways. Fortunately for him on the long drive home he realised he did not need to surround himself with women to make himself a better person.

Zeus #6 did eventually return my call (3 weeks late). I chose not to respond. The final chapter in his incomplete life was with me. No point going backwards when you have done so much to move forwards.

Some weird and unexplainable trend of meeting Zeus’ who had lost their fathers had emerged. I was meeting men who obviously saw me as a motherly figure and as much as I am happy to nurture and be a carer some day in the near future, I am too young to be a mother, especially to grown men. I had hoped closing the Zeus #6 jar was the start of a new beginning for me too.

With most break-ups or parting of ways, one half of the equation is usually left not knowing exactly why it all ended. So it is always nice when down the track someone has a story about an ex – his new girlfriend is hideous, he is losing his hair, or better still maybe he is gay!

My girlfriend called me one Friday morning almost hyperventilating over something she had just witnessed. She was walking through the city on what was a chilly spring morning when she spotted a rather spunky looking man in a very tight, short-sleeved tangerine coloured tee and equally as snug jeans. Next to him was another rather studly man wearing much the same outfit. My girlfriend’s instant thought was ‘what a waste’. It was only until she got a few steps closer to analyse the good looks she realised the hot gay man in the tangerine tee was actually Zeus #5.

Whether or not his ‘male’ friend was just a friend, believing he was gay gave me an answer as to why he did not want to be with my anymore. Shallow maybe, but gosh it made me feel better!!!

Zeus #5 had a dash of magic is his jar that he let seep out in small doses. Somehow he managed to slowly cast a spell over my entire life and before I knew it my strong, in-control dating game plan was flattened.

We were both celebrating the thirtieth birthday of a guy we did not know. My girlfriend had invited me to come along and his mate had done the same. So Zeus #5 and I started with something in common. It is always a tad awkward meeting the birthday boy for the time when you are drinking his cocktails and eating his food, so having a partner in crime made the evening a lot less awkward.

One night stands. Is it fair to say every woman should experience this at least once in their lifetime? An opportunity to have a no strings attached steamy night, wake up the next morning not wanting his number and strut out of his house with attitude.

I’d reached my late twenties without having yet experienced the one night stand (side note – why is it called a stand when you spend the majority of the night lying down!?), and so for the purpose of research and being able to share the experience with my married girlfriends I made Zeus #5 my target.

He was shy, yet subtly flirty, very well educated and pleasing on the eye. He had dimples to die for and filled out every inch of his cotton tee. He seemed like a relationship kind of guy – a perfect candidate for my first stand (you don’t want your stand to be with a player because chances are you will keep coming back to play with one another). All was going according to plan. He had invited me back to his place, only a quick stroll from the pub. We did the usual ‘maybe we should get to know each other a bit before we jump into bed’. The conversation lasted about 15 minutes. The rest is for behind closed doors.

The next morning I had my game plan – quick exit out of bed, into the clothes from the night before and beeline straight to the front door for the walk of shame. But as I attempted to wriggle my way from under his heavy arm, he woke and invited me to his kitchen for breakfast. Breakfast definitely was not in the plan but I could not be rude and decline. As breakfast wrapped up he suggested we exchange numbers. Damn it! Definitely not part of the game plan. But he was a really lovely guy who had potential. So then and there my one conscious attempt at a one nighter failed. It ended up lasting three months.   

Zeus #5 called me a few days after our ‘one’ nighter and invited me out for dinner. Dinner went really well. The conversation flowed, we had more in common then I first thought. There were even a few minutes there were I thought things could actually progress. That was until he offered me dessert. A fruity gelato or herbal tea was on my mind. A rich, full bodied [wine] or hot, strong [coffee] was on his.  

So my dilemma here was whether I wanted to become his regular one nighter or be a lady and politely decline. Was it too late to be the latter? Had I already set a precedent?

The next morning when I had to frantically rush out of his place at 7am to get myself home and ready for work, I realised the decision had now been made for me.

 Six or so weeks had passed and we were still ‘hooking’ up quite regularly. These hook ups though were no longer late night or after-dinner rendezvous, they now followed his mates birthday parties (that he would invite me to as his date); after I’d watch him play rugby on a Saturday afternoon; after a candle lit dinner for two at his place and post a romantic movie. Correct me if I am wrong, but I classify all of the above as date situations, not one night situations.

One night whilst sitting on his couch eating homemade risotto, he told me about the death of his father and the strain it had on his family. He would not go into too much detail, but it seemed he was quite lost without the guidance of his dad. He explained his trouble committing to people because he knew he could not give 100 per cent. Sound familiar?

That night there was no one nighter. And the subsequent dates after that there was no one nighters either. He would invite me over for a night of TV viewing on the couch but would not lay a finger of me or let me rest my head on his shoulder. We often sat on opposite sides of the room, like we were an old married couple. I started leaving his place of a night, with a kiss on the cheek and a very confused mind. I spent many nights driving home in tears wondering what had happened. Had I missed a memo?

The idea of being casual with a Zeus is to enjoy the carefree, no strings attached attention. Which is exactly what I was trying to do – initially. But when does casual become not so casual? Does this need to be discussed via the ‘chat’ or does one assume when you see a Zeus two to three times a week and he is introducing you to work colleagues and mates that things are progressing?

So I got caught up in it. Which is unlike me, but he kept inviting me over and asking me out, even without the sleep overs. So did he want to be friends? Or did he want to get to know me properly without the distraction of sex? Is it too much to expect a man to be up front and honest?

It all ended for me the night he invited me over to his place to watch a rugby test match. His flatmates were over with their girlfriends; we had pizza and wine and cheered on the Aussies. The night was getting late and only the two of us remained. He got up to take a trip to the men’s and I decided to take a moment to rest (on his bed). I heard him come out of the bathroom, but after some time he still hadn’t made his way into my arms. Half an hour must have passed before he eventually walked in and sat on the edge of his bed. “It’s getting late, so I’ll walk you to the door”. Ouch!

The usual me in a situation such as this would have marched straight out, tail between the legs. However on this night I am not sure what came over me. My usual ‘a guy can’t see me emotional because then he will think I like him more than he likes me’ must have gone over the try line when the Wallabies beat the Springboks. His words came out and on came the waterworks. I lay curled up on his bed sobbing, waiting for him to curl up next to me and tell me everything was going to be alright (yes maybe a bit of attention seeking – a girl’s got to try). He did nothing to comfort me though. I showed myself to the door and sobbed all the way home.

A week or so later, after the tears, chats with my girlfriends and convincing myself  I was so much better without him, I did something I regret doing – I called. Although I was angry and hurt I was determined to act like his behaviour did not affect me in the slightest. However, the more I tried to hold back the tears, the more they flowed. As I cried my whimpers were met with silence. I know women get emotional and attached, but believe me when I say I had never been that way before. Not with a Zeus I had only spent a short amount of time with. What was different on this occasion?

For me it came down to this – when Zeus #5 handed me the jar the night of the thirtieth I took it knowing exactly what was in store. But as the weeks went on I started to see potential. He was nice to me. He acted like he cared. He seemed proud to show me off to his mates.  He took a genuine interest in my life. So like it or not, I started to fall for him. And whilst I was falling he was still very much in the casual mind set.

Does this prove that women are incapable of having a casual relationship? Can women be like men and turn off emotion for the sake of casual sex?  In short and from my many chats with women over the years, the answer is no. Yes we can do a one nighter here and there, think the sex is not worth re-visiting and move on. But when a man you’re into enough to continue to take your clothes off for starts playing with your hair in bed and cooking you meals, it’s hard for your mind not to wonder what it would be like if things were more permanent. 

Those tears I cried for Zeus #5 were not because I was losing a man I loved or because I could not bear the thought of life without him. The tears were because I am female and my nature is to nurture. If someone shows me constant attention and opens up to me about life (i.e. stories about the passing of their father) I can not help but to care. On this occasion when I realised the caring was not reciprocated, the emotion that surfaced was tears. Sometimes it surfaces through an angry SMS, burning of letters, a new haircut, or a cuter one-nighter. We do this because it makes us feel better.

My sadness did not last very long. Soon I realised all I needed to do was pour my tears over Zeus #5 straight back into the jar and hand it back to him for his next victim. Job done.

What’s a girl to think when confronted by such behaviour? I listened, I sympathised, I understood. Should I have been a bitch, told him to stop blabbering and insisted he listened to my stories. I know girls who treat their Zeus’ like that and they seem to get a lot further in love than I do. Do I need to change my approach?

 

It all started to become a lot clearer six months later when the girlfriend who introduced me to Zeus #4 invited me out with a work colleague of hers. When women congregate together it is not long before in-depth Zeus conversations are exchanged. Have you ever been around when two women realise they have both ‘dated’ the same guy and both in a very similar fashion been shown the door?

 

So there I was face to face with a female I did not know, reliving my conversations and intimate moments with Zeus #4. Word for word she relived the exact same stories and moments. She’d been sucked in and fallen for him, and was still hurting from her quick dismissal.

 

These were my moments, my intimate time with him. Now I was realising I was not so special, nor did Zeus #4 and I have a unique bond. Do you really share the pain of your father’s death with every open-eared woman willing to listen?

 

The sad content of this jar was realising a great guy was fading away and finding commitment too scary in fear of further loss. Better to protect yourself and not get too close then risk more pain. The agony of losing a loved one will never fade but it is so important to continue living and breathing. Zeus #4 father sounded like a very intelligent, family-orientated man, who would never have wanted his eldest son to miss out on opportunities.

 

More recently, some 18 months later, Zeus #4 popped up on my computer screen for an instant messenger chat. Very casually he said hello and asked how I was. Testing the waters I suspect. I had no reason not to be friendly. Everyone goes through low points in their life and we crossed paths at one of these low moments. He apologised for how he treated me, relived our conversations in detail, told me I was an amazing woman and cringed at his behaviour in the bedroom.

 

“I need to make it up to you. Let’s do dinner next week. I’ll call”. That was four weeks ago and my phone has not rung. Am I surprised? No! Am I upset? No. He at least reflected on our brief stint, realised my worth and felt the need to come back momentarily. Unfortunately I think he still has the same issues and the same fears.

 

The jar has been closed.

So you are over meeting drunken, arrogant guys in a pub. You have given up hope on meeting Mr Right at the gym, bus stop, work, supermarket, walking the dog, on the beach, in the park, library and on the internet. What’s left? The friend who says “I have this really lovely single guy I would like you to meet”.

 

Always risky – yes. But it’s time to be adventurous and move out of your comfort zone. Plus, you have tried most other options.

 

A very patient friend who’d heard in detail all about Zeus #1, 2 and 3 (plus maybe a few others who did not make it onto this blog) decided it was time for me to stop reliving the past and start creating some new stories. She kindly invited me out to a city pub to meet some of her male friends. It was casual and non-pressured so I had no reason not to tag along. What my gorgeous girlfriend failed to mention was the easy on-the-eye Zeus I was about to meet.

 

Zeus #4 had a lot going for him. A jar that instantly appealed to me. This time there were no alarm bells ringing telling me not to open it, because on paper he seemed perfectly normal.

 

Not only was he good to look at, unlike other past Zeus’ he was very upfront, friendly, engaging, and talkative. We met, we spoke, he bought me drinks, all was unexpectedly going well, and then my girlfriend’s eyes started to get heavy.

 

I believe if you arrive somewhere with a girlfriend and meet a guy, unless he is absolutely amazing, you are leaving with her as well.

 

So I may have made an exception on this one occasion, but it was only because my girlfriend insisted.

 

Zeus #4 and I ended up separating from his group of mates and made our way to a pier. We talked for hours. He poured his heart out to me, told me all about his work, friends, family, and growing up. Before we knew it the clock ticked past 3am. The kiss at the end of the night drew me in further.

 

He was so open with me so quickly. I was excited to finally meet a guy who realised although I talked a lot, I’m also willing to listen. A guy who was not scared to let out his emotion and put his hand up and say ‘guys cry too’.

 

The next time we met was over a bottle of white and take away on the balcony of his harbour view apartment. Perfect location, perfect food, perfect company. As we moved on to our second bottle of wine he started to open up further. This time it was about something very close and personal to him – the death of his father some two years prior. In detail he told me about his dad’s life, career and personality. Then very passionately and confidingly he told me about his death. Pretty heavy stuff for a second date however the way he told the story of the man he called his mentor tugged on my nurturing, motherly emotions. I was drawn into him and felt the need to stay close; giving him lots of cuddles and kisses.

 

Only a few weeks had gone by but I felt like I had known him for ages. We had not spent a lot of time together but the time we had was intense.

 

In front of his mates he was not afraid to let down the tough macho image and act as he pleased. “You look so amazing tonight” he would say to me in front of his mates and the nicest part was they respected this behaviour (very different from the larrikin mates of ex Zeus’ who would have called out ‘get a room!’).

 

I am generally not the kind of girl who falls head over heels quickly. Scepticism and caution usually take over. So here I learnt that one can get sucked in within weeks and pushed out in a few short hours. The worst part is – you have no say.

 

One Friday night things were getting a little hot and steamy in Zeus #4’s bedroom. Whether he got nervous or his mind overpowered his pants (something I had never experienced with a Zeus before) he stopped in the midst of the moment and told me he could not go any further. Apparently he had too much going on in his head (and no there were no other women involved). What more could possibly be going through his head? We had talked and talked and talked about everything and anything. I listened, and listened and listened.

 

And then and there at midnight I was nicely escorted from his apartment. Never invited back.

 

I know I am guilty of at times letting my head and my thoughts over power my entire body. When no matter what you do to try and occupy your mind you can not wipe out the thoughts. They are imprinted in your mind. A feeling comes over you and you are unsure how you are going to let it go or even scarier, you do not know how long these feelings will stick around for. Females over the years have cottoned on to the fact that if you talk to other likeminded females (whether this be over a cocktail, chick flick or sushi) more often then not you come away feeling slightly more on top of your emotions. In your own space and time, you then reflect on these wise words and suddenly the pain and emotion does not seem all that bad.

 

Zeus #4 was wise. In attempting to heal his pain he tried to mimic female behaviour. He only half succeeded though because as a man there is only so much impersonating one can do.  Healing is the hard part and luckily for us women this comes naturally.