I’ve been DESPERATE to write earlier, but have been conflicted. What happens when you like someone enough that you don’t want to shout it from the rooftops, or tell every single little detail to the world? What do I do? Do I continue writing and wax lyrical about how I have the BIGGEST grin on my face ever, disclose the down and dirty details, tell the world how when I get messages that say: P.S You’re a babe and it’s spelt right I literally cream my pants, but then actually just want to fall asleep on his chest? WHAT DO I DO?!
I still don’t know the answer but I also can’t not write – that would be dishonest. I just want to state: I am NOT in love, and I am NOT falling for him. Not now, not ever, not no how. If I say it enough times, I might even believe the truth.
He came over on Thursday with flowers, a DVD and rubbed my feet. I had a migraine, I was tired, I was a little grumpy, but I also wanted to just see whether or not there was any real spark that wasn’t alcohol related. I answered the door and I swear it was like another boot in the guts. I didn’t quite get the sweaty palms and the embarrassing red flush and flustered speech, but I did have the biggest smile ever. Not a smile, a grin. A huge, facing aching, chemical reaction based, shit eating grin.
We sat and talked for hours, we watched trashy TV, he rubbed my feet. There were moments where the atmosphere was massively charged and our eyes would meet and my heart would rise into my chest and I’d have to look away, SHY. We put some shite film on, I lent into his chest, he looked at me, held my head, and kissed me. You know that scene in Princess Diaries (I love that film, I’m not even embarrassed by it. I’ve been uncool all my life.) where her foot ‘pops’ at the kiss with the hot man? If I hadn’t have been on the sofa, I would have done that. I am so embarrassed at this.
Anyway. Some hours later, after coming up for breath and discovering that A) I had broken my vow by simply kissing, B) I was literally panting like a bitch in heat C) JEEZ, he was so manly and took the lead and it was so hot, I decided that actually, I’m okay with falling to temptation, I am so totally okay with doing this. He asked and asked again, was this what I wanted, he could wait as long as it took. I straddled him, hot, horny and an actual mess, stating that this was most DEFINITELY what I wanted. He was like every girls’ wet dream. I am not even close to exaggerating: white Calvin Kleins, blue shirt half unbuttoned showing off this amazing downy haired, broad, sexy as fuck chest, with the dirtiest look in his eye. When times are hard, even in my eighties, I’ll relive that moment. H O T.
Anyway. All I’m going to say is: mind blowing. Stars, explosions in the sky, earth shattering, whatever. The best bit of the night though was when he stayed over, and we went to bed and couldn’t stop touching. I cuddled into his chest, my hair well and truly in his mouth, he probably had a dead arm, and in the dark we kept looking at each other, grinning. I can’t describe it.
Waking up and going to work was the hardest thing ever. He went on a stag weekend and left his car at mine. He text me the whole weekend.
Last night he came over, pretty shattered, we snogged on the sofa for hours, ate my terribly cooked food, talked about rubbish, sat and grinned and each other, went to bed, and he left at 0430 to go back to camp.
I’m not saying I like him, or that he’s made it this far, or that I’m seeing him at the weekend, or that he’s so utterly adorable I want to get back into bed with him and sit and grin and have a bruised face from so much kissing. I’m not saying any of that because I think you already know.
I’m in trouble here. I don’t know if I’ll write again about him. I really like him. Shit.