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Make that move
I would tell you about the concert, the breakfast that my friend's recently acquired girlfriend from the Dominican Republic cooked for us, chillaquiles or whatever it's called, a delicious hot spicy porridge thing, but the last 72 hours have been filled with Kim. Below is the post that I wrote when I got back from Glasgow, intending to publish it tonight.
I don't want to go into details but a couple of texts I received later in the evening show clearly that she regretted what she said over the last couple of days--she said was drinking vodka at the time--and now it's all off. "I would love to go to bed with you." "I want to share my bed with you." "I hold you in high regard and am rather fond of you." "I do miss you." All revoked.
For one mind-excitingly sex-excitingly weekend I thought I might be Kim's boyfriend. But I won't be, and I am now utterly sad.
I replied "That all sounds reasonable to me, [pet name]. You're a rare bird and I can't help liking you. Onward! x". Which took a lot of effort and a sob of tears to blink away before it could be sent.
Earlier this evening, I was happy, and ready to cancel my arrangements to meet the Prof and the nurse.
I get back from Glasgow to receive a notification that Nuraddin is looking for a room in Lancaster.
Not much of a goer
I am sent an article on media education and sexuality to edit.
As funny as it gets in the hilarious world of editing
But shining brightly over everything, Kim (first date with awkward ending here), lip-bitingly beautiful three days getting utterly drugfucked here).
I'll say more later--I want to jealously keep it to myself for a while--but I had absolutely no idea she would make that move.
Shalamar - Make That Move
(filmed in Lancaster, Oct 1980)
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