One epic month
A month ago today, i.e. Thursday 26 May, I gave a lecture to mark World Dracula Day in Bradford ( LJ / DW). Since then, my life has managed to unfold with immense intensity on almost all possible fronts - generally with very good results, but it's just been A Lot. Here's my attempt to narrativise and capture the main outlines of it at least. For those who may not be aware, I should explain before getting started the important contextual information that I have been single for the past sixteen years, and began the month with absolutely no desire to change that.
So. I posted here about the WDD lecture, including mentioning that the pictures of me in that post had been taken by the event organiser, Joel. He delivered the inaugural lecture in the series himself the previous year, and we became Facebook friends soon afterwards, so I guess I've been gradually getting a sense of who he is as a person during that time. We clearly have a lot in common, including obviously a strong enough interest in Dracula and related topics to give lectures it. We also live in the same area of Leeds, only about 15 minutes' walk from each other, and are almost exactly the same age. And I'd formed the opinion while watching him give his WDD lecture the previous year that he is a very good-looking man - but that was a purely academic observation which I had no desire or expectation of acting on. On the day of my lecture, we agreed to get the train over to Bradford together, and had a very congenial time chatting on the train there and back and sharing wine in the hotel bar after the lecture. We even shared a taxi back from Leeds station to Headingley, where I unceremoniously kicked him out just before the turn onto my own road. I guess I didn't think anything more of it at that point beyond that it was nice to have got to know him a bit better, given our obvious shared interests.
That weekend, as he'd mentioned he would be doing on the evening of the lecture, he went off on a solo trip to Whitby. Here in Leeds, I went to my friend Nigel's barbecue (Saturday 28 May), and enjoyed chatting to friends and swaying along to a '90s music playlist from the sunny slopes of his garden. That evening, Joel is messaging me via FB from Whitby, showing me the view of the Abbey from his guest-house room, and talking about how he is reading Dracula there. Previously all our correspondence had been purely logistical stuff about the lecture, but now he's seeking me out and wanting to chat about our big shared interest. The conversation doesn't last hugely long at this point - just a few messages back and forth. But thinking it over, I'm suddenly remembering the periodic occasions on Thursday when our conversation fell quiet for a moment and he flashed me these sweet, slightly awkward smiles, and it occurs to me - wait, what, does he like me? Is that why he's messaging? I have of course rebuffed many interested parties during the last sixteen years, but this is a new situation for me. Someone is interested in me, and I'm not immediately repelled.
The week goes by. The following Saturday (4 June), there's an epic club night on in Leeds which I've been looking forward to for ages run by an outfit called Karkasaurus. Shortly before getting ready to go out to it and dance my little socks off, I discover from Facebook that Joel is going out clubbing in Leeds that night too. At this point, the prospect is just stressful. I'm aware that he might like me and I also kinda like him, but I'm also very conscious of my sixteen years of singledom, what weird baggage that is to be carrying, all the reasons why I chose it in the first place, and my sense that I just don't even remember how people go about romantic interactions any more. So suddenly my lovely free independent night out dancing is looking more like it might involve having to spend the entire night avoiding somebody who is interested in me, because the prospect of actually letting anything happen with them is beyond my ability to cope with. I make myself go out anyway, because fuck letting some man ruin my night, and in practice realise after a couple of hours that he isn't there and must have gone out somewhere else instead. I relax, and am deeply into dancing wildly to the best set of the night when I spot his distinctive figure after all in my peripheral vision. I make sure I'm facing the other way so I don't have to feel self-conscious, and keep on concentrating on the dancing. But I can't dance for ever. When I finally run out of energy and stagger to the bar for a coke, there he is - and we don't stop talking for the rest of the night. I feel anxious and on edge about where all this is going, but I don't want to be doing anything else either. We share a taxi-ride home again, during which he reveals to me that the ring tone on his phone is a snippet of the music from Dracula AD 1972. It feels like the universe is playing with me, dangling this obviously incredible match of a man right in front of me, testing to see whether I'll crack. I instruct the taxi to drop me outside my house, and get out there, leaving him to continue onwards to his. Once inside, I stand in the hall-way for a few minutes, reeling with the sheer overload of trying to process what's happening. At this point, I'm still feeling primarily like I have been playing with fire and have had a lucky escape in the sense that nothing concrete has actually happened between us. I feel like I'm going to have to try to avoid interacting with him for a while to make sure it doesn't. Obviously I can't inflict my emotional baggage on him, which he has no idea about, so it would be immoral to lead him on any further.
The following morning, Sunday 5 June, I awaken, gradually remembering the events of the night before, as you do. It all still feels strange and unfamiliar, but now a more visceral emotion hits me like a bolt from the blue: I want him. My brain also helpfully supplies the point that I don't actually have to tell him about the sixteen years thing. Meanwhile, opening up FB, I discover he's posted to his page saying that he had had a great night the night before, but that his morning has started with a panic attack which is 'clearly situational'. I strongly suspect that this is his equivalent to my own state of mind after getting into the house the previous night, and begin to wonder whether it would actually be immoral not to lead him on further after all. I give the post a 'care' react. Not long afterwards, he sends me a link to a TV show he'd mentioned the night before, and we proceed to spend most of the day chatting over Messenger. Not really about the panic attack - I just say in replying to his first message that I'm sorry to hear he's had a bit of a wobbly morning. But about the many common interests we've now discovered we have. By the end of the day he's saying he feels much better and thanking me for talking to him.
As the week starts, we continue to message. There's a lot of plausible deniability going on. We're just really bonding over our shared interests, right? But I'm at the point where I actively want to move things on now, and he is one of those people who posts a lot of selfies on FB. I post on one saying how nice the cravat he's wearing in it is. By about Tuesday I've taken the plunge and messaged him directly to say in response to the latest one that it's not just the cravat. He is smokin' hot. I mean, he is. The facts are on my side:
By the end of the day, we've got what is very clearly a date in our diaries for Thursday.
Thursday 9 June. It's a strange day anyway. I go into town to collect a costume I'm hiring for a special party (more below), and then onto campus to collect and set up a new laptop for my office and have my annual review meeting (it's great, my HoS is very pleased with me and has concrete reasons to be so). Joel continues to message me periodically, as he's now doing every day. Meanwhile, I message , telling her that I've got this date and am excited but terrified, and she gives me some sage advice. I still have to take two Kalms just to leave the house, though. I meet him at Arcadia, a local and very congenial Headingley pub, at 8pm. He's wearing a white shirt with the collar turned up, a white cravat and a black waistcoat, looking for all the world like an Anne Rice vampire, and he's already got the wine list from the bar because he knows that's my preferred beverage. Over the course of the evening we continue to talk intensely about Dracula et al while beginning to mirror each other's body language and getting closer and closer until our knees are pressed together. Eventually he asks if I'm all right (something he does regularly, very lightly and casually, but as a very thoughtful and genuine way of checking in with the person he's with), and I take the opportunity to say I'm a bit nervous because I haven't done anything like this for 'a long time' (I don't say how long). Whereupon he takes my hands reassuringly and the next thing we're kissing. After last orders are called he walks me home, and doesn't leave until 8 the next morning.
Friday 10 June - other parts of my life continue. In fact, by coincidence, this month is packed full of busy social things anyway, all of which I've pre-booked. I go to see Nunkie perform two H.P. Lovecraft stories in York, on the back of only about four hours' rather fragmented sleep. I don't say anything to the friends I'm with about the previous night's date, as I have barely taken it all in myself yet. Instead, I just focus on Nunkie's show, enjoying watching him performing some new material, and with appropriate changes to his set and effects - e.g. electric light sources such as a torch, slide projector and anglepoise lamp, rather than the candlelight he uses for M.R. James.
The next day, Saturday 11 June, I drive to Oxfordshire to take part in a Georgian-themed birthday party taking place on the Sunday, before returning on Monday 13 June. This is what the hired costume was for, and is being hosted by my friend Anna, who does this kind of thing regularly and wanted her friends to share it with her on her birthday.
It's incredible in its own right, let alone against a backdrop of Joel still constantly and extremely appreciatively messaging me. We've clearly both really enjoyed our first date, and are looking forward to the next.
Wednesday 15 June - this happens to be a high-stakes day at work. I have to present at a School Board in the morning and a REF celebration lunch at midday, then chair my own two-hour RIF meeting, before going straight into a memorial service and reception for our colleague Martin Thomas, who died in January. It's very peopley, but I get through it all, with applomb in the bits where I was needed. Joel continues to message. One of the themes becoming apparent from these interactions with him is how much he respects my academic career, and wants to be supportive of it. He sends me motivational messages on big days like this, doesn't expect me to engage in long chats with him when he knows I'm busy, and asks how it has all gone for me afterwards. As the total absence of such respect in past relationships was a very big factor in putting me off them, this is really eye-opening for me and rapidly becoming another strong reason for liking him and wanting to keep seeing him.
Thursday 16 June - I do another round of Latin spell translations for Ben Aaronovitch's, send them to his agent, and get a reply from him the next day saying they're really good.
Joel thinks it's amazing that I sit around translating things into Latin, and sends heart-eyed emojis on Messenger.
Friday 17 June - our second date. He comes round in the evening to drink wine in the garden and watch The Sorcerers. On the Saturday, we have lunch in Headingley and a few more drinks in Arcadia, before I have to send him on his way because I have a big long day in London on the Sunday which will start with me having to catch a train considerably earlier than I'd really like.
Sunday 18 June - he comes round early in the morning in his hearse (yes, he's so goth that he literally drives a hearse) and drives me to the station so I can catch my train in good time. Obviously this is partly so he can show off the hearse, which I know about but haven't seen before this point, and it doesn't really make a big difference to the logistics of the journey. But it's definitely another sign of his thoughtfulness and desire to do nice things for me. I have lunch with my friends Jane and Kriss and Kriss' friends Tam and Mark, and do take the opportunity to mention to both Jane and Kriss that after sixteen years I am suddenly having dates with an extremely nice gentleman. They're suitably surprised and pleased for me. Kriss, Tam, Mark and I then proceed to the surreal yet wonderful The Burnt City, an immersive theatre performance by Punchdrunk productions based on the fall of Troy.
On a late train back, I chat to Joel on Messenger until he retires to bed, sending him pictures of the sunset.
Thursday 23 June - I finish the first draft of an article I need to submit at the end of the month. I've somehow been keeping up steady forward momentum on this the whole time in amongst everything else, and he has been cheerleading me on the whole way, sending me motivational messages and pictures and being incredibly respectful of my time when I'm working on it. It's unusual for me to be this far ahead on an article a week ahead of the deadline, especially in the middle of such a busy and obviously tiring month, so it feels a lot like his support is really working for me.
Friday 24 June - third date. He comes round again on Friday evening and we spend it similarly to the previous week. Then on Saturday we temporarily disperse to our separate homes to get ready to go Out out, and head to Sex Club, a queer-friendly gothic night of live acts followed by DJs. He comments that it's the first time we have 'stepped out together as a couple', and obviously he's being a bit tongue in cheek using an old-fashioned phrase like 'stepping out', but I think the implication that we're a couple now is genuinely meant. And certainly there are multiple people we both know there seeing us obviously together for the first time. I'm aware that it's a matter of some comment, but we're utterly absorbed in each other the whole time, only interacting pretty briefly with anyone else. We watch most of the live acts, entwined in each other's arms, but by not long gone eleven the entwining has become so intensive that we've got no real choice but to head back to my place and let it work itself out.
And so here we are a month after the WDD lecture, and the first night we really started getting to know each other. We haven't quite got to making big declarations of love, but it's early days yet - still only 2.5 weeks after our first date. Certainly, we're neither of us seeing anyone else, he gazes into my eyes with a smile of complete infatuation, he is constantly behaving thoughtfully and respectfully towards me in what is very obviously just his normal mode of operation (rather than an act which will drop later), and we've been talking about all sorts of things we might do and places we might go together in the future. I didn't expect this, I wasn't looking for it, and it's still quite a lot to take in. I am having to re-examine and revise a lot of very long-established assumptions about myself and what I want. But it is most definitely a very good thing which has happened, and I'm excited to see where it will continue to.
So. I posted here about the WDD lecture, including mentioning that the pictures of me in that post had been taken by the event organiser, Joel. He delivered the inaugural lecture in the series himself the previous year, and we became Facebook friends soon afterwards, so I guess I've been gradually getting a sense of who he is as a person during that time. We clearly have a lot in common, including obviously a strong enough interest in Dracula and related topics to give lectures it. We also live in the same area of Leeds, only about 15 minutes' walk from each other, and are almost exactly the same age. And I'd formed the opinion while watching him give his WDD lecture the previous year that he is a very good-looking man - but that was a purely academic observation which I had no desire or expectation of acting on. On the day of my lecture, we agreed to get the train over to Bradford together, and had a very congenial time chatting on the train there and back and sharing wine in the hotel bar after the lecture. We even shared a taxi back from Leeds station to Headingley, where I unceremoniously kicked him out just before the turn onto my own road. I guess I didn't think anything more of it at that point beyond that it was nice to have got to know him a bit better, given our obvious shared interests.
That weekend, as he'd mentioned he would be doing on the evening of the lecture, he went off on a solo trip to Whitby. Here in Leeds, I went to my friend Nigel's barbecue (Saturday 28 May), and enjoyed chatting to friends and swaying along to a '90s music playlist from the sunny slopes of his garden. That evening, Joel is messaging me via FB from Whitby, showing me the view of the Abbey from his guest-house room, and talking about how he is reading Dracula there. Previously all our correspondence had been purely logistical stuff about the lecture, but now he's seeking me out and wanting to chat about our big shared interest. The conversation doesn't last hugely long at this point - just a few messages back and forth. But thinking it over, I'm suddenly remembering the periodic occasions on Thursday when our conversation fell quiet for a moment and he flashed me these sweet, slightly awkward smiles, and it occurs to me - wait, what, does he like me? Is that why he's messaging? I have of course rebuffed many interested parties during the last sixteen years, but this is a new situation for me. Someone is interested in me, and I'm not immediately repelled.
The week goes by. The following Saturday (4 June), there's an epic club night on in Leeds which I've been looking forward to for ages run by an outfit called Karkasaurus. Shortly before getting ready to go out to it and dance my little socks off, I discover from Facebook that Joel is going out clubbing in Leeds that night too. At this point, the prospect is just stressful. I'm aware that he might like me and I also kinda like him, but I'm also very conscious of my sixteen years of singledom, what weird baggage that is to be carrying, all the reasons why I chose it in the first place, and my sense that I just don't even remember how people go about romantic interactions any more. So suddenly my lovely free independent night out dancing is looking more like it might involve having to spend the entire night avoiding somebody who is interested in me, because the prospect of actually letting anything happen with them is beyond my ability to cope with. I make myself go out anyway, because fuck letting some man ruin my night, and in practice realise after a couple of hours that he isn't there and must have gone out somewhere else instead. I relax, and am deeply into dancing wildly to the best set of the night when I spot his distinctive figure after all in my peripheral vision. I make sure I'm facing the other way so I don't have to feel self-conscious, and keep on concentrating on the dancing. But I can't dance for ever. When I finally run out of energy and stagger to the bar for a coke, there he is - and we don't stop talking for the rest of the night. I feel anxious and on edge about where all this is going, but I don't want to be doing anything else either. We share a taxi-ride home again, during which he reveals to me that the ring tone on his phone is a snippet of the music from Dracula AD 1972. It feels like the universe is playing with me, dangling this obviously incredible match of a man right in front of me, testing to see whether I'll crack. I instruct the taxi to drop me outside my house, and get out there, leaving him to continue onwards to his. Once inside, I stand in the hall-way for a few minutes, reeling with the sheer overload of trying to process what's happening. At this point, I'm still feeling primarily like I have been playing with fire and have had a lucky escape in the sense that nothing concrete has actually happened between us. I feel like I'm going to have to try to avoid interacting with him for a while to make sure it doesn't. Obviously I can't inflict my emotional baggage on him, which he has no idea about, so it would be immoral to lead him on any further.
The following morning, Sunday 5 June, I awaken, gradually remembering the events of the night before, as you do. It all still feels strange and unfamiliar, but now a more visceral emotion hits me like a bolt from the blue: I want him. My brain also helpfully supplies the point that I don't actually have to tell him about the sixteen years thing. Meanwhile, opening up FB, I discover he's posted to his page saying that he had had a great night the night before, but that his morning has started with a panic attack which is 'clearly situational'. I strongly suspect that this is his equivalent to my own state of mind after getting into the house the previous night, and begin to wonder whether it would actually be immoral not to lead him on further after all. I give the post a 'care' react. Not long afterwards, he sends me a link to a TV show he'd mentioned the night before, and we proceed to spend most of the day chatting over Messenger. Not really about the panic attack - I just say in replying to his first message that I'm sorry to hear he's had a bit of a wobbly morning. But about the many common interests we've now discovered we have. By the end of the day he's saying he feels much better and thanking me for talking to him.
As the week starts, we continue to message. There's a lot of plausible deniability going on. We're just really bonding over our shared interests, right? But I'm at the point where I actively want to move things on now, and he is one of those people who posts a lot of selfies on FB. I post on one saying how nice the cravat he's wearing in it is. By about Tuesday I've taken the plunge and messaged him directly to say in response to the latest one that it's not just the cravat. He is smokin' hot. I mean, he is. The facts are on my side:
By the end of the day, we've got what is very clearly a date in our diaries for Thursday.
Thursday 9 June. It's a strange day anyway. I go into town to collect a costume I'm hiring for a special party (more below), and then onto campus to collect and set up a new laptop for my office and have my annual review meeting (it's great, my HoS is very pleased with me and has concrete reasons to be so). Joel continues to message me periodically, as he's now doing every day. Meanwhile, I message , telling her that I've got this date and am excited but terrified, and she gives me some sage advice. I still have to take two Kalms just to leave the house, though. I meet him at Arcadia, a local and very congenial Headingley pub, at 8pm. He's wearing a white shirt with the collar turned up, a white cravat and a black waistcoat, looking for all the world like an Anne Rice vampire, and he's already got the wine list from the bar because he knows that's my preferred beverage. Over the course of the evening we continue to talk intensely about Dracula et al while beginning to mirror each other's body language and getting closer and closer until our knees are pressed together. Eventually he asks if I'm all right (something he does regularly, very lightly and casually, but as a very thoughtful and genuine way of checking in with the person he's with), and I take the opportunity to say I'm a bit nervous because I haven't done anything like this for 'a long time' (I don't say how long). Whereupon he takes my hands reassuringly and the next thing we're kissing. After last orders are called he walks me home, and doesn't leave until 8 the next morning.
Friday 10 June - other parts of my life continue. In fact, by coincidence, this month is packed full of busy social things anyway, all of which I've pre-booked. I go to see Nunkie perform two H.P. Lovecraft stories in York, on the back of only about four hours' rather fragmented sleep. I don't say anything to the friends I'm with about the previous night's date, as I have barely taken it all in myself yet. Instead, I just focus on Nunkie's show, enjoying watching him performing some new material, and with appropriate changes to his set and effects - e.g. electric light sources such as a torch, slide projector and anglepoise lamp, rather than the candlelight he uses for M.R. James.
The next day, Saturday 11 June, I drive to Oxfordshire to take part in a Georgian-themed birthday party taking place on the Sunday, before returning on Monday 13 June. This is what the hired costume was for, and is being hosted by my friend Anna, who does this kind of thing regularly and wanted her friends to share it with her on her birthday.
It's incredible in its own right, let alone against a backdrop of Joel still constantly and extremely appreciatively messaging me. We've clearly both really enjoyed our first date, and are looking forward to the next.
Wednesday 15 June - this happens to be a high-stakes day at work. I have to present at a School Board in the morning and a REF celebration lunch at midday, then chair my own two-hour RIF meeting, before going straight into a memorial service and reception for our colleague Martin Thomas, who died in January. It's very peopley, but I get through it all, with applomb in the bits where I was needed. Joel continues to message. One of the themes becoming apparent from these interactions with him is how much he respects my academic career, and wants to be supportive of it. He sends me motivational messages on big days like this, doesn't expect me to engage in long chats with him when he knows I'm busy, and asks how it has all gone for me afterwards. As the total absence of such respect in past relationships was a very big factor in putting me off them, this is really eye-opening for me and rapidly becoming another strong reason for liking him and wanting to keep seeing him.
Thursday 16 June - I do another round of Latin spell translations for Ben Aaronovitch's, send them to his agent, and get a reply from him the next day saying they're really good.
Joel thinks it's amazing that I sit around translating things into Latin, and sends heart-eyed emojis on Messenger.
Friday 17 June - our second date. He comes round in the evening to drink wine in the garden and watch The Sorcerers. On the Saturday, we have lunch in Headingley and a few more drinks in Arcadia, before I have to send him on his way because I have a big long day in London on the Sunday which will start with me having to catch a train considerably earlier than I'd really like.
Sunday 18 June - he comes round early in the morning in his hearse (yes, he's so goth that he literally drives a hearse) and drives me to the station so I can catch my train in good time. Obviously this is partly so he can show off the hearse, which I know about but haven't seen before this point, and it doesn't really make a big difference to the logistics of the journey. But it's definitely another sign of his thoughtfulness and desire to do nice things for me. I have lunch with my friends Jane and Kriss and Kriss' friends Tam and Mark, and do take the opportunity to mention to both Jane and Kriss that after sixteen years I am suddenly having dates with an extremely nice gentleman. They're suitably surprised and pleased for me. Kriss, Tam, Mark and I then proceed to the surreal yet wonderful The Burnt City, an immersive theatre performance by Punchdrunk productions based on the fall of Troy.
On a late train back, I chat to Joel on Messenger until he retires to bed, sending him pictures of the sunset.
Thursday 23 June - I finish the first draft of an article I need to submit at the end of the month. I've somehow been keeping up steady forward momentum on this the whole time in amongst everything else, and he has been cheerleading me on the whole way, sending me motivational messages and pictures and being incredibly respectful of my time when I'm working on it. It's unusual for me to be this far ahead on an article a week ahead of the deadline, especially in the middle of such a busy and obviously tiring month, so it feels a lot like his support is really working for me.
Friday 24 June - third date. He comes round again on Friday evening and we spend it similarly to the previous week. Then on Saturday we temporarily disperse to our separate homes to get ready to go Out out, and head to Sex Club, a queer-friendly gothic night of live acts followed by DJs. He comments that it's the first time we have 'stepped out together as a couple', and obviously he's being a bit tongue in cheek using an old-fashioned phrase like 'stepping out', but I think the implication that we're a couple now is genuinely meant. And certainly there are multiple people we both know there seeing us obviously together for the first time. I'm aware that it's a matter of some comment, but we're utterly absorbed in each other the whole time, only interacting pretty briefly with anyone else. We watch most of the live acts, entwined in each other's arms, but by not long gone eleven the entwining has become so intensive that we've got no real choice but to head back to my place and let it work itself out.
And so here we are a month after the WDD lecture, and the first night we really started getting to know each other. We haven't quite got to making big declarations of love, but it's early days yet - still only 2.5 weeks after our first date. Certainly, we're neither of us seeing anyone else, he gazes into my eyes with a smile of complete infatuation, he is constantly behaving thoughtfully and respectfully towards me in what is very obviously just his normal mode of operation (rather than an act which will drop later), and we've been talking about all sorts of things we might do and places we might go together in the future. I didn't expect this, I wasn't looking for it, and it's still quite a lot to take in. I am having to re-examine and revise a lot of very long-established assumptions about myself and what I want. But it is most definitely a very good thing which has happened, and I'm excited to see where it will continue to.