Posted in Single Life

The Canadian

There was an understated coolness about you.  Much to my surprise, you weren’t surrounded by girls or friends.  I can’t remember who approached whom, but I do remember laughing a lot and the seductive stares that were a fraction-too-long.  We went bar-hopping round my favourite places in Brighton; I really felt I was guiding you through a top-quality Friday night in Brighton.

We had a platonic sleepover.  I found out your exotic (yet poignantly appropriate) name, where you had been, where you were off to next, your hobbies, your quirks, your habits.  We shared so much in our evening together and we clicked in a way friends who haven’t seen each other in ages do.  Sharing a bed (and thoughts) was clearly needed for the both of us.

In the morning, I disclosed to you one of my most sacred things: my fail-safe hangover cure process.

Tea isn’t a thing for us…

Until I convinced you it should be.

You’re so energetic…

And then I proved to you this is the way to be.

Energy and tea lead to cuddles, snogs and life plans.  And then it was time to drive you back to your hotel.

Have an awesome day in London,

he said.

Have a fantastic time travelling,

said I.

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