Signs that your boyfriend, girlfriend, husband or wife are crazy in the head

TheBeardedLady wrote: »

She is a he.

Crossdressing is often the first sign

she was female.

They tell you they're mental.

Not really a girlfriend, more of a blind first date,

Walked her home from the pub and was gonna ring a taxi from her house. Got into house and rang taxi, then she locked the door and started crying and hyperventilating saying she didn't want to be left on her own..(she lived alone😒)

A bit of placating later, I got the key eventually and made a run for it, didn't look back and turned my phone to silent. Next morning when I saw 23 texts, 18 missed calls and 5 voicemails I was pretty sure it wasn't going to go any further.

I was fifteen, at a teenage disco, and met this seventeen year old guy. (Now, for a start, in hindsight, what sort of a creepy seventeen year old even goes to teenage discos?! Shouldn't he have been busy getting turned away from pubs/nightclubs by that age ... I know I was!)

Anyways, we got chatting, there was kissing, bla bla bla. He was REALLY over-the-top cuddly, which was weird, but then again I'd very little experience of what was normal. We ended up on the same bus home. Now, because I'm really old, this was back in the days when not all teenagers had mobile phones - so I had my dad's one with me. He gave me his number and asked me to text to let me know when I got home. I did, and he texted back night night sweet dreams etc with a million kisses. Grand, whatever.

Now, I can't stress this enough - he KNEW that this was my father's phone (and naturally I deleted the messages before giving the phone back to my dad the next day.) My dad was away for work the next day, arrived home around 9pm. Handed me his phone. Nine texts, six missed calls. The texts started off quite "breezy" and chatty, before getting all panicky - "What? Have I said something wrong? Why aren't you replying?" before getting all "Oh well, it was nice knowing you. I'll miss you" etc. This is still only the next day after we'd met for the first time!

Anyways young-and-foolish me didn't run a mile, and in fact ended up texting him back and forth. A couple of days later, a Valentines card arrived in the post. (He had found my home address in the phonebook. As you do, you know.) Big massive lovey-dovey card with x's and hearts and little poems scrawled all over the inside of the card. Valentines Day was already over - he explained that he was sending it to me because he was so sorry he'd missed this Valentines Day with me, but he never wanted to miss another one.

I'm cringing admitting this, but I still ended up going out with him until that summer. Mortified. I don't know, I was an insecure gawky teenager with glasses and braces, incredibly shy, I guess I was amazed that an older guy like that would be so interested in me. And he was my first boyfriend, I just didn't really know what was and wasn't normal.

So then when school finished for summer, I went off to the Gaelteacht. Every day, every single day when I was there, a letter would arrive in the post for me (often more than one.) Not only were there pages of sappy sappiness within the envelope, he'd also write lovey-dovey messages for me (in Irish) on the outside of the envelope - and of course the guys giving out the letters in the evenings would have a good laugh at it in front of everyone, and read out bits of it. I don't blame them, it must have been hilarious. I wrote to him asking him to stop, and he only got worse.

I was sick of it all, so I broke up with him the day I got home from the Gaelteacht. He was devastated and heartbroken etc. His mum rang my mum asking could she get me to give him another chance, as he was pining away for me. Two weeks later, he was completely in love with another girl. I was delighted! Kept him away from me anyways. Ten years later, he's married to that same girl. She obviously likes a good dose of crazy in her men!

I bet I still have all of the old letters and cards boxed away somewhere in my parents' house. Must dig them out for a laugh.