I met a boy.
Over the weekend I was in Brisbane visiting friends and family. On the way up in the plane, I was a little melancholy - for what I am not sure precisely - but I spent some time on the plane ride writing down my thoughts in my Moleskin. I pined for a partner with whom I can share all. I also lamented that the one thing I missed, while trying to not get pissed off at the VERY canoodly couple beside me, is the secret knowledge that couples have. I miss the way that when you are with someone for a long time, you know little things about them that others don't. I still remember the way that my ex-husband tied his laces, the quirky way he brushed his teeth and his clean smell just after a shower. Remembering this sort of stuff made me realise how much I want someone to have that quirky intimate knowledge of me.
So I began my weekend with a mild state of melancholy.
And then I met a boy.
He was in fact a friend of Ms Ho, and her husband (Mr Ho perhaps?). She informed me a few weeks ago about wanting me to meet him when I was up next. I didn't get told too much about him, except that he was recently single (alarm bells!!!!) and was bemoaning finding a woman to spoil. He apparently also possessed a biting wit. So a meeting was arranged for the four of us to have dinner and facilitate conversation. The evening involved eating, drinking (well me and Ho - the boys were dry - WTF?), and conversing.
And how was he? OH. MY. GOD. Was he hot? Oh, yes, tick. Was he smart? Fucking yes, tick. Did he make me laugh - a miraculous feat on occasion? Oh yes, tickity tick tick. In fact, I couldn't have done better if I had put a direct order in at the shop.
He made me laugh about Schrodinger FFS. This is truly a man that worked for me on many levels. Before I went home, I imposed my business card on him, with, of course, all of the implications of "Call Me".
When I went home, I lay in bed thinking about him. And about Bond and our tortured and ridiculous relationship. And about men in general. I tried to rationalise and say to myself, "Well isn't it nice that there are in fact men out there who actually excite and entice you - don't give up hope yet." Considering that very very few men even make me think about them once, let alone twice. But then I thought over the evening, and acknowledged that although he was amusing and polite to me, I don't think he was interested. So then, the immediate next thought was, "Great, I finally meet a man that piques my interest, and yet again, another man that doesn't want me."
Think yourself lucky that you don't have my brain and thought patterns!
So with all this going on in my head, and it is progressively getting later (think close to 2am), I then get a text message from Bond. Fucking great.