Oh, that’s right: I’m a jackass.

I’d pretty much decided to chuck in the blog due to my nascent relationship with the Geordie. It’s official: we’re not dating other people. We’ve been grinning inanely at one another and grossing out fellow Londoners with our lovey-doveyness for the past few weeks.

Ever the pie-eyed optimist, I figured that somehow I had stumbled upon a man who required no game-playing or bitchiness or faux-aloofness. I was sitting in his living room on Saturday after spending the day with him in the pub eating lunch and reading the papers before taking a walk in Hampstead Heath (see? Told you. We’re sickening) thinking about how lovely and surprising it all was.

“Huh. So I guess this is what it’s like when you meet someone with whom you share mutual affection and admiration. How novel.”

I said as much to my friends.

“Forget the books!” I cried. “The man is an ADULT. He is always early, he is always great fun, the sex is amazing… stick a fork in me for I am done!”

I’d forgotten a key point: I have a crippling fear of commitment

I keep getting hit by waves of rising panic. The last wave I experienced centered around my fear that being with him would immediately lead to weight gain because he eats nothing but meat and takeaways and does no exercise whereas I am mildly OCD about eating a lot of vegetables and running a lot.

I filled my flatmate in on my concerns.

“You know, maybe I should just forget the whole thing,” I said, only hours after returning home moon-eyed and oversexed. “I mean, he might screw up my exercise schedule! And if he thinks I am going to eat a CLUB SANDWICH with CHIPS every weekend… Well! He’s got another thing coming!”

My flatmate looked at me pityingly.

“Well, darl, I don’t think being with him necessarily means you’ll gain weight. And next time, tell him you want to go someplace where he can eat a lot of meat and you can eat some granola. We live in LONDON. You can find someplace that suits you BOTH!”

She had a point. But the fear hasn’t subsided.

So I’ve decided it’s best to continue with the experiment. Because even if this thing with the Geordie is something amazing, that doesn’t mean it’s not entirely in my power to fuck it up.

Let’s face it: I still need help.