Stars and Shit

I am currently sitting in my kitchen with decaffeinated tea and toast and trying my very hardest to avoid looking at the massive pile of books waiting to be read for uni. Every time I catch sight of them out of the corner of my eye, there is an overwhelming sense of guilt because they look so lovely and intellectual - Shakespeare, a Latin dictionary, Homer and Aristophanes - and I feel that I should become that person who reads all the course books and is therefore filled with aaaall knowledge and shit.

But nah.

Also note DECAF tea. This is a travesty. I was told by my GP that I have to severely limit my intake of alcohol and caffeine. I didn't even tell him about the 3/4 bottles of wine a week. He just knew. What a dick.

Anyhoo, I'm really just procrastinating telling you what a bumblefuck I am.

So in my last post, I said I went back to LB's but nothing occurred of the bed gymnastics variety. WELL. A few days later, I got a message from him asking me out for a drink. I nearly fell off my dragon. (In this scenario in my mind, I was on Facebook whilst sitting atop my pet dragon awaiting the signal to go into battle. I get very bored sometimes). 

But the thing was, I was meeting my beloved father (of the parental variety; not the religious) for dinner the day before and that always makes me sad/angry for the next few days. And sure enough, after meeting said father, I felt like poo. And I messaged LB to tell him so and therefore I would have to cancel.

Then I drank a bottle of wine and went to the beach at 11pm. I don't know if any of you know Aberdeen but it's right on the North East coast of Scotland so when you go to the beach you just see this expanse of sea which is interjected with the occasional oil rig or huuuge boat. At night, it's amazing. All the boats are lit up in the distance and the black sea is reflected in the darkness of the sky. But the best thing about going there on a clear night is the stars. Although not as obvious as if you were in the countryside, they still shine brightly and are really just gorgeous. Bloody love stars, me.

Anyway, I texted LB and asked him if he wanted to come to the beach because there were stars and shit. 

He was very reluctant to leave his warm flat and after about half an hour, I agreed that I would come to his instead of him coming to the beach. What a boring fuck he is. No sense of adventure or stars.

So I turned up at his flat at about half past 12. And we were both really tired so went to bed. Well fuck me sideways and call me Wendy. That man knows how to do the sex.

Holy fuck on a stick. I was very impressed.

But that's not even the most important bit. The most important bit was the next morning. We woke up at about 8am and talked for about 2 hours. Not proper talking, like, bed banter. But I made him laugh - a sort of sleepy smile and laugh into the pillow - and honestly, it was just perfect.

I should add that he is 22. I am 18. I can't remember if I mentioned that. So I was apparently the youngest girl he's been with. And was the same age as his sister. Which freaked him out a bit therefore I enjoyed mentioning as many times as possible that he was in bed with an 18 year old. I mean, 19 in like 2 weeks so it's not that bad...

And really, it felt like I was the young, adventurous, free spirited one. Which is a weird thing to think of just from a 2 hour conversation but I mean, you could obviously tell the age difference. But not in a bad way. I didn't think.

Then I left and went to work.

And THEN...

I fucked it all up. 

As per usual. Quelle surprise. It wouldn't be me if I didn't.

Sorry, was this boring? I'm still half asleep. I just needed to get it all out of my brain. Don't worry, you can be prepared to hear about my fuck ups later.