My First Heartbreak From Someone I Never Even Dated

I'm a stone-cold fox when it comes to matters of the heart. Stone. Cold. Fox. 

When it comes to friendships, I'll kick back with anyone. But when it comes to dating, I'm a harsher critic than Gordon Ramsay. Picky and ruthless. My friend once said to me "the day you find someone that ticks all your boxes, hell will freeze over." 

I'd just moved in with new roommates (that I LOVED) and they wanted me to tag along to a house party. A guy with a mullet, earring, and a 90s shirt that said "I survived the Bermuda triangle" approached me. 

"Hey, Izzy isn't it?" he asked. My face dropped as my brain turned into this:

He grinned at my perplexed face. "I honestly didn't expect you to remember me... the last time I saw you was at Angus' party" his words trailed off.

Ah. Angus' party. The party where I got so drunk (never drinking gin again btw) that I kept crying over Ratatouille, screaming at people to kiss because I thought I was Cupid, and voice memoing and interviewing people as if I were a journalist reporting my night. 

"Did I interview you with my phone?" I asked.

"Yeah, you asked what my funeral song is and then gave me a play-by-play of how you're gonna run a 100 question trivia at your funeral and the winner gets your will". 

"Sounds about right. Well nice to properly meet you now. I'm Izzy".

"Errol".

Errol. Errol. And what song had I been listening to all day beforehand?

Hell froze over. It was destiny.

We just talked. And talked. And talked. He'd get distracted by other mates for a second, I'd meet someone else, he'd go to the toilet, I'd grab another bev, but we'd always gravitate back to each other to just keep talking, talking, talking. 

He happened to be my roommate's good friend so from then on, I saw him everywhere.

I was whipped. I was in love. I couldn't stop thinking about him or hoping that I'd see him soon. But I'd never actually been into someone! I had no idea what to do. I was terrified to ask him out or make a move. I was beating around the bush, waiting for some pristine moment, waiting for him to do something, just waiting. 

Hardly anyone knew that I was into him as I didn't wanna make a fuss. Especially not my roommate. But before a party we were all going to, I told myself "enough is enough. I have to do something". I was gonna go for it. 

My roommates and I arrived late to the party. As if in slow motion, I saw him. Errol. Kissing another girl. In shock I just stood there, watching. It was like a trainwreck, I couldn't look away. I couldn't stop thinking "that should be me, if I'd made a move that could have been me".

Defeated all night, I revelled in the fact that it was probably just a one-night thing. Ah, to assume makes a fool. They started dating.

I think what sucked most was that I was still seeing him most days. I'd tell myself "I'm over him" and then he'd come over for dinner, say a joke and I'd fall back in love. It shattered me, seeing him with her. Shattered me. I felt ridiculous. Dramatic. I couldn't believe this was consuming me so much. A guy who didn't even know I liked him for god's sake.

I was supposed to be a stone-cold fox.

But like all things do, it passed. 

Thanks to Errol, my pickiness subsided a bit. I obviously know my worth and my standards, but I'm a little more open-minded to relationships, and a little braver too. The next guy I met that I was into, I asked out straight away. 

I got completely over Errol. In fact, in retrospect, I think we'd make a pretty shotty couple. Oh and bonus, I can listen to 'Errol' by Australian Crawl again without wanting to collapse.