How many warnings does it take...?

So the whole dating thing. I was quite resistant to Internet dating, not because I thought only weirdos and freaks used it (several good friends have met lovely partners via Internet dating) but because in a way I'm quite fatalistic when it comes to dating 'if it's meant to happen and I'm meant to meet someone then it'll happen'. Funny attitude in a way- but the thing is that for me, there's a very fine line between finding dating fun and entertaining, and finding it horrible and stressful ('why hasn't he called? Shall I call? What if he doesn't like me? WHAT'S WRONG WITH ME??!!') I don't like the whole dating game, I've never had to play it before (whenever I've met someone before it's been 'right, I like you, you like me, now we're together'). So I wasn't exactly enthusiastic and my first couple of experiences earlier in the year didn't really endear me to it (one guy who never got in touch again after what I thought was quite a good date, and one guy who was just really, really dull).

But, you know, it's summer and the sun's shining and seeing people walking down the street kissing and holding hands makes you think, 'well, maybe', so I picked the nicest photos of me and psyched myself up...and before I knew it I was chatting to several guys and planning dates, the first one being with an Australian banker, A. His opening line was to ask me which surgery I worked in which in retrospect should have been the first warning...

Fast forward to the day of the date and I woke up to a message saying 'I found you on Facebook and you look lovely. And I can see you must have recently got divorced, I hope you're OK'. This should have been the second warning...

For some foolish reason I still went on the date. God only knows why, I think I felt like giving him the benefit of the doubt- in fact I told him that when we met. I knew straight away I shouldn't have gone when he said to me 'I'm sorry if I freaked you out looking at your photos but you should really be grateful to me for showing you your security settings aren't good enough'. That should have been the third warning...

Eventually he asked me the question I knew he would, 'tell me why your marriage failed- if you don't mind talking about it'. I said 'It's hard for me to talk about, not because I'm still in love with my ex, but because it's inextricably linked with my mum's illness and death which is hard for me'. I started telling the story and got as far as 'and my dad was going into hospital for spinal surgery and my mum was having chemo and so I was moving home for a month to look after them but the night before I left my husband said to me 'I can't do this any more, I'm moving out' ' and he said 'I can't believe it, you were newlyweds... Did you give him lots of sex?' I tried to laugh -assuming he was making a joke, albeit one in very poor taste -and he said, 'No, but seriously...did you?'

Do you know what makes me saddest of all? I have always, always wanted to throw a drink over someone, it's one of my life aspirations (like being chased through an airport as per 'Love Actually') and yet this was the perfect opportunity and I didn't take it.