Love Me: The Manoir

How it Feels to be Called 'Quite Pretty'

The thing about being in love is that it only seems heavily dramatic afterwards, once you're out the other side and can finally see rationally again. It seems like insanity now that I managed to make it through one day of feeling like that, let alone six months. But life continues on through silly things like emotions.

One day in the common room my friend received a Snapchat from her friend of his friend who so happened to look a little bit like me. Okay, he really didn't look like me. But we had the same glasses, and my friends thought it would be a funny idea to send one back of me. And then a couple of weeks down the line this boy added me on Facebook.

And then he sent me a message.

I still got the same amount of adrenaline as when I was eleven again, and spent a ridiculously long time crafting a perfect reply back while my gaggle of friends all crowded round me. I think they knew this was exactly what I needed.

We hit it off. Let's call this one Simon.

Simon was a little weird like me, a little awkward like me, and importantly he was just as single as I was. I stayed up till the early hours of the morning talking to him about music and food and mostly about how weird it was that we had so much in common. (A small tip for anyone reading: don't let anyone mess up your sleep schedule by talking to them – they aren't worth it).

Simon was the distraction I needed, and soon enough I was getting ready to go on my first date with him. I nervously waited for around 20 minutes before he came, and we exchanged an awkward hug while I waffled and rambled to fill the silence.

While we had so much to talk about online, in real life it felt like two people who could barely think of anything to say. The date was mostly filled by my awkward chatter, realising that I was more confident than he was about the whole thing.

He drove me back to my house which I perceived as one of the most romantic things he could have done, and we strangely shook hands before departing. I knew then that there wasn't a spark, but I continue to push on the flirtation because it was a release from those crushing feelings I had for Caitlin.

There was a small part of me that hoped I was making her feel jealous. She had told me that she didn't think he deserved me, and that comment was enough to have me thinking for weeks. Did that mean that she thought I was worth more? Did that mean that she thought she deserved me?

I met up with him for a second time, and it was just like the one before. There was no chemistry, no spark, it was like two acquaintances meeting and discussing the mundane things they knew would pass the time. My friends didn't like him; they said he was too quiet and a bit rude when they met him that day. We hugged this time though.

And then he told me I was fat.

Okay, he didn't put it in those words but at the time I was so sure he was implying it. For context, this conversation began as a light-hearted discussion about who would survive the world of Game of Thrones.

Let me present me getting increasingly angry while being insulted by a clueless teenage boy...

***

Me: I'd be fine (in the world of Game of Thrones)

Simon: Why would you be fine? This is outrageous.

Me: I just feel like you're all skin and bones, I've got some meat to protect me. I'm like roughly the same size as Daenerys.

Simon: I have a few muscles I'll have you know. I can do a whole pull up. And I don't watch GoT so I don't know how big she is.

Me: Well she's about the same height and build as me. She's played by Emilia Clarke.

Simon: Isn't she skinnier? Sorry if that was mean.

Me: Boi you are cancelled. Goodbye.

It was at this point I began to send screenshots to my friends, shocked by the audacity of this boy. How dare he say anything about my weight? My weight?!

Simon: Ly bitch. Also I can't tell if you actually want me to 2 hit it and quit it.

Me: You're cancelled. Is that not obvious what it means?

Simon: Are you seriously upset about this? I can't tell anymore.

Me: I am the same size as Emilia Clarke, she's thic as fuck (I then proceeded to send him a picture).

Simon: Firstly, it's thicc and secondly you ain't as top heavy. But I mean I see some similarities.

Me: You're digging yourself into a hole. Do you want me to give you a spade?

Simon: Why are you bothered? I don't really care what you look like. Let alone comparing you to a Hollywood 30 something year old actress. For a teenage girl from Oxford you are fine, maybe even slightly attractive. You could call me way uglier than most famous people and I would agree.

Me: It's actually like you've never spoken to a girl before.

Simon: Okay what? All of that was a compliment. Well then here comes an apology...

Me: None of that was a compliment. I don't want some bullshit apology.

[Time skip through some more argument]

Simon: Okay fine. I think you are quite pretty. I've already said I think you're an 8, and I stand by it.

***

I finished things with him that evening and told him we were better off as friends. The thing is with the compliment 'quite pretty' is that it isn't a compliment. Instead, it only reaffirmed what I already knew about myself – I was not enough for someone. Not even for an awkward boy with no social skills. Sorry Simon.

Reading back that conversation, I can see that I got aggressively angry over not a lot. But he was attacking the one thing that I held dearest – how desirable I was to him. And the fact that I wasn't desirable only hurt my ego. What use was I to him if I wasn't that pretty? What use was I to the world if I was only 'quite pretty'?

A message I received from Simon a year later:

Anyway, while I'm here (he had just responded to my Instagram story) I've been meaning to say this for a long motherfucking ass time. I never had a crush on you; I was infatuated on the interest you showed me, and that's because I motherfucking depressed. I realise now that I'm fine with never being 'involved' with you but just being friends is good enough because you're a decent bloke. So with that in mind, Ella, will you be my friend again.

I would see Simon once more before I left home on Result's Night in a sweaty club, and we would proceed to not make eye contact at all. He was my first proper flop on the dating scene, but a welcomed distraction from Caitlin and the abundance of emotions that would continue to circle round my head. I wish him well, and hope that he finds a person to be as invested in McDonald's Monopoly as he is.