He’s back – Our resident dating blogger, I am Marcello returns…

i am marcello blog returnI have been away. That is not a euphemistic way of saying I have been incarcerated. I have merely been away from the world of blogging. My dating blog was put out to pasture as I took some ‘me time’. Unfortunately, this was me alone time – which is kind of unusual for departing dating bloggers. Our usual trajectory is to date – and keep on dating – until we find someone worth sticking with. At this point a dating blogger drops off the grid. Sometimes they resurface as a parent blogger (with perhaps a brief sojourn as a wedding blogger along the way).

To an extent, 2015 was the year my dating failure went international.

Personally, I had different reasons for leaving, none of which involved getting lucky. As a result, I was trailed by women-shaped woe throughout my sabbatical – it just happened to take place offline. That being said some of it occurred abroad – which is something, I suppose. To an extent, 2015 was the year my dating failure went international.

This year I took some time off work to undertake some modest travel. My employers agreed to a period of extended leave, so I shuttled off with my ridiculous bearded housemate on a continental dash. During this exercise in self-analysis I learned one vital fact about myself: I hate travelling. Still, I saw some interesting European cities and met some dazzling local ladies. I was embraced by the former, rejected by the latter. And now – like some frazzled Victorian explorer – I have returned.

The corporate world is where I belong – I realise that now. I tried having a minor crisis on the cobbled streets of Vienna, but it didn’t pan out. My plans to write the Great London novel vanished as quickly as my appetite for budget travel. I was Colin Firth splashing about in the lake, trying to retrieve the pages that would earn me a fortune. But unlike Colin I was not accompanied by a Latin beauty in her underwear. Instead, my hipster housemate looked on with dull amusement as I thrashed around in the murky waters alone. So, with no small amount of relief, I find myself back in London. Back where I belong. Where the eagles cry – on the mountain high. Thank god. Thank Colin. Thank anyone. I’m just happy to be back.

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