The engaged-guy always sticks twice

Did I skip the Aidan phase and go straight to the Berger phase? What is this? When did I trade emotionally unavailable for legally unavailable?!

After a big love, a first love, there is a chance that you'll have the "I will never care about another human being" thought. This will go on for an undefined period of time. It will suck.

But, when you least expect it, you'll meet someone at an event you were practically dragged to, he will add you on a social media channel of his choosing, and begin to message you.

You will fall instantly in lust with someone who truly excites you, and who you only met for five minutes. How refreshing it feels to be excited about someone new. Someone who is nice. Non-threatening. No hard sell, no 'hey baby', no tinderella.

I told my friend she'd introduced me to someone and, believe it or not, he'd passed the popcorn test – sweet or salted? – and we might be married by the time she got home. She laughed and replied, "Darling, are you joking? You know he's engaged right?"

When Carrie says it's like a bomb going off, she wasn't kidding. Trying to guard from the shrapnel is pointless because, by the time you've realised it's a bomb, you know you're going to get hurt.

Engaged. Yes. I am old enough to be interested in people who have bought very expensive pieces of jewellery with the subtext that they are off the market forever. He quickly cleared up that it was a very recent break-up – so recent not even all of his friends knew yet.

Next loop in this roller-coaster: the recent divorcee. This should have been the point where I raised my similar situation. But a quick bit of internet stalking research reveals your four months does not quite match his two weeks.

I was a rebound chat?! Ugh. I mourned the crush which would never be truly realised, and I felt awful for the girl I would never know. The woman who went from fiancé to singleton. Women in heartbreak are emotionally and cosmically attached. They belong in a field, wearing hemp, holding hands, chanting methodically to Florence and the Machine.

But this is all beside the point. Because once the marriage-air had cleared, we were back to being funny, flirty, and strictly friends.

Circa Carrie, I went to sleep safe in the knowledge that my crush could marinate until my dating hiatus was up – and maybe the ring was returned.

And circa Carrie, I woke up to a shock message. Although Carrie's post-it had more words. Nothing says "I'm sorry, I can't" more clearly than all removal and blocking from social media.

My roller-coaster came to a very unexpected halt. But, like the post-it note, it was definitive. The crush crashed. And it was probably the best outcome. Who needs to get messed up in a marriage anyway?

The good news is, I seem to have my dating appetite back. The bad news is, you've got to get through a few Bergers before you get Big.