Posted in Friends, Single Life

Possession.

We’re in our 20’s.  There is no need to sit on top of the guy and snog his face off in the pub.  I was talking to him.  We are friends.  I know you’re seeing him, and shagging him.  And that’s fine.  I did that last year.  It didn’t work out.

You didn’t seem very friendly.  Were you judging me?  Were you threatened?

You don’t need to prove anything.  Yet, equally, you don’t own him.  He’s a grown-up.  He can talk to me and you can still go home with him.

 

Women are clever.

Said my mum.

You’re a pretty girl and she feels intimidated by you.

That may well be the case, Mummy, but it was strange how she snogged his face off in the pub.

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