I Am Just a Petrified Cry in Day one

So......I have a terrible history as far as dating goes. Bad luck doesn’t even begin to describe it. But lets start at the beginning.....I’ve been married and it’s five years almost to the day since my decree absolute came through. But in the seven years since I booted The Ex out, things have not gone well on the dating front.
First, there was the guy who rang his mum part way through our dinner date to ask if she needed anything from the supermarket.
Then there was the ultra rude chap who told me I wasn’t his type because I didn’t ‘look this fat on the photos’ (despite my profile stating I’m plus-sized).
One bloke who I had got on particularly well with via text and telephone didn’t bother turning up for our first date. I believe that’s called ‘ghosting’.
There was the guy who ordered wine and, whilst it was being poured, asked me if I had a preference for ‘anal’.....!!!!!!!!!!! I picked up the bottle of wine and walked out of the restaurant with it in my hand, consuming it all once I got home.
And then there was Pete.
Now Pete was one of the best first dates I have ever been on. We had a ridiculous amount in common and we got on a bit too well. A quick drink turned into a few drinks and a meal and only getting home at gone eleven. Expectations of a second date were pretty high and in fact, we met up again the following week. We decided though that because we did get on so well we should be best pals instead of entering into a relationship and you know what ? It worked perfectly. Well.....right up until he decided to be a complete knob. We stayed incredibly close for a full two years until he upset me to the point where I just could not continue the friendship.
And that brings me to Diddy. Diddy was my first ever boyfriend at school. We were 12 and he was in my maths and science classes. He would come to my house on a Saturday and watch my uncle tinker about with the car on the driveway. Then we would sit on the sofa with sandwiches and tea and watch Saturday afternoon telly. His feet didn’t even touch the floor. Young love eh?
Long story short; we became a couple last year and had six pretty epic months together. But we broke up (I’ll tell you about that at a later date). Two months after we broke up he took his own life.
Pete made an off the cuff remark about suicide and I decided there and then to end the friendship.