It had been two weeks since I'd last seen him and a week since his last, extremely non-committal text. It had always been a fuck thing with us, I knew this. The whole 'never going out only staying in together' theme of our 'dates' was a dead giveaway. We were great at filling the gaps between sessions with light chit chat and giggling and the sex was unbelieveable but I knew it was never more than that. We were far too different to ever have a relationship.
So when C, the guy I met in KOKO before Christmas, rang me one night this week after a two week silence I was surprised. I had assumed he was letting things fizzle and although I was a bit disappointed at the thought of no more sessions with him, I had started to accept whatever it had been was over. His phone call perked me up no end and I went from a pyjama-clad slob watching Masterchef and eating pasta and pesto with a spoon, to a hair-flicking, throaty-laughing party girl. Well, vocally at least. For fifteen minutes we caught up, laughed and chatted and just as I thought he was going to suggest another meeting, he says the immortal words: 'Actually, there is a reason I'm calling...'
He didn't have to use the word 'special' now, did he? "I've met someone special and we're seeing each other.' Of course I heard 'You're not special enough' which really annoyed me because I absolutely didn't want to be special enough for him, I never actually wanted him as my boyfriend but suddenly I found myself experiencing intense feelings of rejection. I guess this says more about my fragile ego and the fact that sex is still, no matter how emotionally healthy I try to be about it, a form of validation for me than the fact that I liked him. I was pretty pleased with my response although I did call him 'mate' about four times towards the end of the call, probably to emphasise the distance I was already putting between us. I hope I got away with it. Anyway, I have deleted him from MSN/Facebook/mobile and have already moved on but I'm still annoyed with myself for caring at all.
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