Yes, we did meet, and to be honest it was kind of awkward at first. Not awkward in terms of being with each other, but awkward in as much as neither of us was completely sure whether there were subjects that we should avoid talking about. In the end, after a few vodka and tonics (which always helps in such circumstances) I decided that we may as well get it all out in the open, and made what I thought was a very bold admission. I told her that I think I may be... no, that I am... (takes a deep breathe...)
There. I’ve said it. And the trouble is, I think it’s true. Partly because I love my life and don't want anyone or anything to threaten the happiness we have here... me and the kids, doing what we want, when we want. I’m too used to it now, I suspect, and I’m not sure that it’s a good thing. But it’s more than that, because I seem to have developed a habit of persuading myself that things are... “wrong” in some way, when to all intents and purposes they’re actually pretty right. I do it every time, and I’m not a fool – I’m aware that I look for any reason I can find to justify my decision to bring things to an end with whoever I might be seeing at the time.
And I’m coming to some conclusions as to why I do it. Conclusions that are telling me that I may not have come out of the destruction of my marriage as undamaged as I like to think I am. Not exactly rocket science, I know, but even so it’s becoming quite a revelation! I’m going to have to ponder this for a while, I think, and see where it takes me. But maybe I have to be a little more honest with myself at times, and accept that I have some work to do on myself.
Anyway, back to PTFE. She wanted to us to get together again, and tried very hard to convince me that she’s not looking for anything other than the enjoyment of livng "in the moment", with no expectation and no agenda of any kind. That if I stopped “running” for a minute I might just find the happiness I’m looking for. A bit harsh, I thought, but in any event I said I was going to leave things as they are right now. I suspect we’ll stay in touch, though, and that’s a good thing. At least I think it is. (This is the abridged version of our evening, incidentally. There was some kissing, and she made her usual attempt to get her hands on my cock, which I deftly avoided. I was very proud of myself.)
And now, somehow, it’s Friday and I seem to have agreed to another sleepover this evening – this time, a little friend of S’s is staying over. And he’s already heard about my pancake breakfasts. I even got a call from the mother of O’s friend who stayed last week, specifically to tell me that her daughter was no longer accepting a bowl of corn flakes in the morning! (Actually, I adore this woman more than anyone I can think of – just about – and she turned up at the house yesterday looking so horny I could have jumped her on the spot. I had her to myself for about an hour, and have a feeling I’m in love with her. Oh dear... lucky she's married then!)
Talking of S, when I went to wake him up the other morning I was carrying my compact digital camera as I’d just been charging the battery. I love children’s faces when they’re sleeping and couldn’t resist taking a photo before he opened his eyes. Beautiful, isn’t he? And please note the Tottenham bedding...
I’ve just realised that I’ve been rambling a little. I’ll stop now, even though there are lots of other things I wanted to write about, and just wish you all a lovely weekend. I think it’s going to be a hot one, and of course it’s the World Cup final on Sunday. Frankly, I couldn’t give a fuck who wins it, as long as it’s a good match.
Okay, I’m really stopping now...
Holiday countdown - 16 days