Lois abandoned me last week-end as she jet-setted off to a lovely skiing break. So there I was, on my lonesome, with Friday off and the need to do something crazy on Thursday night. An idle mind is indeed the devil's workshop.
I decided to see my favourite boy GPBK on Thurs night as I needed to check out this place to hold my birthday party. There has always been chemistry between GPBK and me, and one hot sunny evening last June, we decided to do something about it.
Since then, our friendship has grown stronger (I no longer subscribe to the adage that you can’t be friends once you’ve been to bed)… something I once again decided to put to the test.
Armed with condoms, I met him at a bar. We watched the Tottenham game (my ex is a die-hard Arsenal supporter, what better way to obliterate him than by sleeping with the enemy), we drank lots and lots. Moved on to another bar, where we bought champagne, danced and, as if by magic, kissed.
So one light touch on the lips turned into a full-blown snog and there we were, swaying to the music, holding each other and kissing like there was no tomorrow. I would like to say that none of this was pre-planned, but unfortunately, I can’t. I knew this was what was going to happen. I planned everything to the final detail. And the plan worked. Deliciously well.
I have to say the act itself wasn’t as memorable as I was hoping it would be. But, it hasn’t made me feel any worse about myself. It hasn’t made me feel better though. I’m still the same. Except that maybe I feel a bit more powerful.
Seeing ex tonight. Should be interesting. I have parcel in bag. I fear this will be the last time we see each other.
Clarke x
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