Well. The title of this blog could be misleading. This incident couldn’t really constitute an actual date. But I thought I’d give it some blog space. I was in my late twenties when I had a short fling with this guy. It didn’t work out. We remained friends but didn’t hang out much. Luckily we just both figured very early on that we didn’t suit. Then shortly after he went on to a new relationship and seemed pretty happy. Several years later….
At first I thought the texts were just friendly, we’d linked back up on facebook. It began with “so hows life going… long time no see” one might deem these as ‘normal’ messages. I did. I had been living in a shared house in London for perhaps six months by this point and to be honest it was NOT giving me the sense of ease and wellbeing it was meant to be giving me. I was actually feeling pretty depressed in the urban jungle. So when I got a few texts from an old ‘friend’ who turned out to live round the corner (we were friends after that dating episode) I thought GREAT!
Him: “So you live in the area now then?” ME: “Yes! Im in the hood!” Him: “remember that time we spent together?” ME: “er.. kind of…” Him: “Oh.. really? So when shall I pop over to see you? Now?”. I looked at the clock. It was midnight. Was he having a laugh? ME: “It’s pretty late now”. Him: “You’ve lost loads of weight btw – looking great!”. ME: “Er. Thanks! Yeah I’ve been blah blah blah.. running and…blah blah…. jogging…”. Him: “Tomorrow then?”. ME: “Sure! Come over for a coffee!” Absolutely no sexual tendency meant with the coffee reference.
So tomorrow came. And as I peered out the window I saw a sweaty Steve ride up on an old beaten up bicycle.
I opened the door. Finding myself actually quite pleased to see him.. “Alright me ole chum!” He grinned at me. I smiled back. He walked into the kitchen and removed two cans of special brew. (I used to drink alcohol but I NEVER drank special brew thank you). I was also… living in a teetotal house “Oh my god! put them back in your bag now! If someone sees I’ll be kicked out straight away!”.
We went to my room where I sat at my desk and he sat on my bed. I always thought this was quite normal behaviour when you lived in a shared house. To go to your room with your friend. But now on reflection perhaps the living room would have been a better idea. My bad.
In the seclusion of my small bedroom – Steve crashed himself down almost breaking the slats of my bed with his fall. He removed a bag of cocaine from his pocket and put it on my desk. “Want some?” he grinned innocently at me. He looked up at me and his eyebrows hovered patiently about five centimetres above his eyes. He poured it out in front of me on the desk… and I watched him as he sat snorting white powder through a dirty five pound note. Sweaty and sniffing he sat back on the bed.
“So what have you been up to etc etc etc?” he asked uninterestedly. I started rambling on about quitting drinking and all that therapy stuff. He cut me off.. “So you do remember that time we spent together?” he queried. I looked back at him. “Not really. It was a long time ago… Aren’t you settled down now?” I pushed taking the guilt slant. I was starting to feel…a bit…uncomfortable.
“Well. Actually. Yes – but you know she doesn’t want to have sex with me. I really love her – we’re really happy. But. I just want sex man!”. This would have been an ample position to follow in Nora Batty’s footsteps and chase him off the premises with a broom. Or something. (Actually should have done that at the sight of the Special Brew).
“Look I’m really not into having an affair with you”. I replied. “Affair?!’ he smirked. “Who’s talking about an afffair! I’m just talking about a one off – you and me”. I couldn’t believe the lowness of the situation. I looked at him sitting on my bed with his sweaty bicycle suit on. And tried to envisage what he thought I would be gaining from that proposition.
And for the next two hours I sat and offered up my own marriage counselling session. “Well I don’t think you should have sex with someone else”. I replied. “Have you thought about buying some sexy underwear for her…” I came up with every reason under the sun as to why he shouldn’t sleep with someone other than his partner. And two hours later looking totally bored – he left my house.
And so. That was the day my libido died.
“People are like dirt. They can either nourish you and help you grow as a person or they can stunt your growth and make you wilt and die.” Plato
But there’s still hope yet. This is sweet Letter to a Little Girl from her Daddy
Surround yourself with good people.
Stay blessed 🙂