"It’s lovely to meet you,” he said, his eyes admiring his mystery date.

I smiled and blushed rose pink.

"Champagne? To toast our luck."

"Sure, why not?"

There was real warmth to this one, the laughter lines bracketing his mouth seemed to invite a smile from anyone he came in contact with.

"I was with my ex for five years but she left me for someone else."

He looked down momentarily, politeness not allowing him to mourn for any longer than necessary.

"Oh well, them’s the breaks, huh?"

As he tipped his glass towards mine and the goblets chinked like a clichéd soundtrack to love, I began to have second thoughts.

"I want children some day, I come from a big family, in fact I'm the only one who's not hitched with little ones in tow."

"I'm an only child." I managed.

As the evening wore on, I realised he was a very nice man, kind, genuine, not afraid to show his feelings, caring and not at all bad looking.

"So," he said, rubbing his hands together, excited at the prospect of what this date might mean. "Shall we grab a bite to eat, I know a little Italian round the corner, does a brilliant risotto, what do you say?"

My tummy rumbled and said yes that would be great, my instincts told me what a good idea this potential partnership was, but my obstinate defiant beating heart put on it's party pooper hat.

Too nice, it whispered, too dull, he’s already had his heart broken once, his heart is weak but I am strong, when two hearts joust, I will not be knocked off my steed. There’s no danger here, only safe boredom , the one thing you constantly fear.

So I say to myself, don't break the habit of a lifetime girl, go on, go find yourself a bastard.

And unused to disregarding my heart's desire, I shake my head, feign tiredness and leave that lovely man all on his own.