A Fine Thing

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(Continued from Invitation Only)CC Image courtesy of pimthida on Flickr

I have a habit, when reading messages from guys I like, of skimming for question marks and the word ‘love’. (For some reason, the phrase ‘I’d love to etc etc’ really does it for me – I wonder why.)  So it’s little wonder that my eye is drawn to the last line.

Look, I know this is dodgy behaviour given he has a girlfriend, but I’ve just had the rug pulled out from under my feet.  Just when I think things with FFS are going well, the guy goes silent on me; and, as if that’s not bad enough, I now have the added stress of not knowing if he will or won’t show at my birthday dinner.  And if he does show, I have no idea how to behave towards him.  His manner of greeting will probably tell me all I need to know; and either I’ll be a wreck from thereon in and Beatrice will have to carry the show, or I won’t.

My gut tells me the former is more likely.  Beatrice, talking to me on the phone the day before, raises a good point.

‘Anna, do you actually want him to be there?’

I um and ah for a bit.  ‘Y-es, no, I don’t know!’

Standard response.

I try again.  ‘Y-es.  As in…’

The text he sent this morning implied everything was fine.  He even gave something approaching an explanation for not having been in touch all week.  So, well, there’s a chance – isn’t there? – that I’m just being paranoid.  That he does like me.  That he’ll come on Saturday, and be warm and affectionate and tender –  all the things I want him to be.

‘… no, I do.’

CC Image courtesy of Darwin Bell on Flickr

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