A Recipe for Disaster

Before

I had always been unlucky in love. Always.

Ever since I was a young girl.

When I was eight years old I had my first 'boyfriend'. He was called Freddie and he lived two doors down. We used to play together all the time and one day he told me he liked me. We held hands, he brought me chocolate and he kissed my cheek. I went home that night with a massive smile on my face, telling my mum that I had a boyfriend. The next day I went round to his house to ask him to play out. His mum opened the door and told me he was already out. I looked everywhere for him. We'd had such a good time the day earlier I just didn't understand where he was. Eventually I found him. At the park... holding hands with someone else... instantly heartbroken.

I was thirteen the next time I was properly interested in a boy. Alfie Harris. He was the most popular boy in the year above me. He was gorgeous and I was in that really awkward stage. I had acne, braces glasses. My hair was always frizzy and I always looked like I'd been dragged through a hedge backwards. He'd somehow found out I had a crush on him and asked me out. I was so shocked but obviously said yes! I even went and got my hair done at the salon the afternoon before our date. My dad dropped me off at the bowling alley and I waited outside for Alfie. I was out there for thirty minutes before he turned up. With about fifteen of his friends. One of them was filming me, and they were all laughing at me. All I can remember Alfie saying to me was, 'did you really think I'd be interested in you?' before they all started laughing out again. I tried my hardest to hold my tears in but I couldn't help it. The tears spilled from my eyes and down my cheeks, which only made them laugh more. I walked all the way home, still crying. That was the second time I'd been heartbroken.

My first proper boyfriend came when I was seventeen. His name was Tom and we met at college. Things went well with Tom. He was my first everything. I loved him and he loved me and at the time I was convinced we would be together forever. But then we went to different universities, and we made it work for a year but broke up not too far into our second year. I was once again heartbroken.

Tom was my last proper serious boyfriend. I've had flings here and there, many, many dates, but nothing serious ever came of them.

Now at twenty-six, I was ready to find 'the one'. I'd got my own house, I'd started up my own business, a little bakery business I was so unbelievably proud of and I had an established group of friends all of who were getting engaged and settling down with their partners. I was ready for that. Well at least I thought I was.