Just a brief aside, to assure you all that the madness is far from passing. Tom (remember Tom? Oldest Work Friend?) has quit his job to follow the path of True Love – he’s just got engaged and his fiancee works on the south east coast, so he’s relocating down there. Cue genuine tears from me as well as a lot of feeling sorry for myself… With a couple of brief moments of being happy for Tom, obviously.<\/p>\n
Anyway, he’s arranging his leaving drinks so that I can go – I’m going away for a couple of weeks in November, more of which possibly to follow later – so they’re going to be the week before he actually leaves. I’ve demanded that Sarah not be invited and he’s complied (I’m really going to miss him, so pliant…). So now I have another date in my head by which I have to be beautiful and radiant and desirable. So far so average, right? But I was going through my wardrobe tonight and realised I already own the Perfect Dress. I tried it on, I look MINXY and I allow myself to daydream that he takes one look at me and mows down all in his path to speak to me and tell me how much he’s missed me and how he wants me back. But something kept jarring my reverie. Not the pointy finger of reality or common sense shaking it’s head despairingly. No, something far more tangible. I realised that the drinks were on a Thursday and (owing to my quest to be The Perfect Girlfriend) even now I remember that the UEFA matches tend to fall on a Thursday. And he (well, his Dad) has a season ticket, so if the match is at home, he’ll be going to that instead. So 1) like a loser I’ve just looked up the fixtures and yes, his team are playing at home that night. I still can’t quite believe I did it. AND, compounding this grievous error, I even skipped forward a couple of weeks to find out if they’re playing the weekend of my birthday. As if that makes a difference now!!! (they’re not… another row I would have bottled up potentially avoided.) 2) Just to make things worse for myself, I’ve now decided that he would obviously go to the football. So this means that if he DOES go (whihc he won’t, even though I’ll hope against hope that he does, he’s too much of a creature of habit not to go) then it’s because he LOVES me and can’t WAIT to see me under whatever slim pretext he can manage. Way to set myself up for yet another fall. Ho hum.<\/p>\n
Btw, I accepted charlie as a friend at the weekend. Now checking my gmail every night with breathe less anticipation, waiting for the email that says “he’s too scared to do this himself, but you should know he’s sorry and wants another chance” etc<\/p>\n
The people who told me I’d be better with time clearly don’t know me BUT AT ALL.<\/p>\n
Gah.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Just a brief aside, to assure you all that the madness is far from passing.…<\/p>\n