No Man’s Land

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CC Image courtesy of rafa59(II) on Flickr

Rachel takes my arm.  ‘Soooo what’s new?  Tell me about the love life!’

I spread my hands.  ‘There’s nothing.’

And for the first time in a long time a) I mean it, and b) I don’t mind.  Really.  It’s bliss: no frantic checking of the phone, no sleepless nights, no frittering away hours on Facebook.  I spend my evenings seeing friends, running, dancing, and writing.  Life is good.

I say nothing.  What I mean is that I’m enjoying what can only be described as a low-level crush.  It barely impacts on my day-to-day life; it is merely a pleasant thought which drifts in and out of my mind.  Admittedly, it helps that Crush isn’t on Facebook (what IS it with these guys?!), so I can’t stalk him. I have his number but don’t feel tempted to use it, ever, perhaps because I know I might see him soon; or perhaps because I’ve learnt something in the course of the past year, namely that if a guy is interested he will make it happen. So I don’t think about it..  I have his number but don’t feel tempted to use it, ever, perhaps because I know I might see him soon; or perhaps because I’ve learnt something in the course of the past year, namely that if a guy is interested he will make it happen.  So I don’t think about it.

‘It’s so liberating,’ I say, ‘not being hung up on someone!’

Rachel smiles.  ‘Mmm.’

We walk on in silence down The Mall, heading for Victoria.   It’s a beautiful, balmy September evening.

As we pass the palace I wonder idly if Harry is home.  I keep this thought to myself, for Rachel is currently of the opinion that I am grounded and sensible – she hasn’t seen the blog – and, for one night only, so am I.

CC Image courtesy of Niquinho on Flickr



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