Passion, Persistence and Puke!

Afternoon Everyone, 

So all is well in the world this week. My dilemma essentially has resolved itself as I choose my head over my heart (for once). This has been made maybe slightly easier by the fact that the 'Mystery Man' otherwise now referred to as Mr. Welsh has not been in contact with me since. Although I think that maybe Mr. Cheese may be something worth investigating further - Especially as how things have been ramped up a gear ...

So since our date last week with Mr. Cheese I was struggling with the fact that whilst I tried to tell him through body language that I wasn't comfortable with kissing on a first date he still went in for it and kissed me anyway. Not that it was an awful 'washing machine' experience like some other frogs I have kissed, but as already explained last week was sweet and innocent. We had made plans to meet a week on, however after both Mr. Cheese and I found ourselves at a loose end on Friday night we decided to spend the evening together; And so I had a wonderful evening out in a quaint little Italian restaurant in town. I think the staff could tell we were a 'new pairing' and made all their efforts to make us feel comfortable. Not that I paid much attention to the staff, especially when I have the company of Mr. Cheese rambling on about the appreciation of hats, zebra's and other madness that I thought only I possessed. 

Finally I have found a fellow foodie that doesn't just survive on chicken dinosaurs and potato smiles for breakfast, lunch and frigging dinner like Mr. Workaholic. Although, until your in that position, you never know just how difficult it is to eat a salad gracefully is when the bowl it comes in is lopsided and you have half the Amazon in there too. Desperately trying to cram a forkful of leaves and chicken into your face-hole before your date look's up from his own delicious meal is very hard but I think I got the hang of it. Maybe that's what the staff we smiling about, that funny little women in the corner wrestling with the artistically ridiculous bowl that is completely impractical. Following my wrestling match came an indulgent pudding of Tiramisu and Profiteroles shared with my date, Mr. Cheese. And so there we sat, for once barely saying a thing as we ate our desserts with twinkles in our eyes, slowly licking the spoon and twisting our tongues round a silver fork. As if it couldn't get more intense, Mr. Cheese revealed how one of his siblings would probably be spying from another restaurant across the road, trying to get a glimpse of the action. 

After dinner we made a swift exit hoping not to be caught sight of by Mr. Cheese's brother and made it to the safe haven of a local pub. From the outside it didn't look too busy and so we went in. Sod's law would say that as soon as we walked in it was packed to the rafters and after buying a couple of drinks we spent the rest of the evening there, right up until closing time. We talked thoroughly about everything and anything. But then came the subject of what happened to the 'Ex'. Sweetly and as if not to impose, Mr. Cheese simply hinted at the question so as not to scare or upset me, and, since he himself had opened up about his ex-girlfriend (who sounds like a boring-arse anyhow) I felt compelled to tell him. So for the first time in many, many months I let loose and took myself back to a rainy Friday evening in April last year when my world caved in on itself. I didn't cry, although I did feel very emotional and I think I would have if I had not stopped at certain parts of the story. 

At that moment most men I would have expected to pop on their running shoes and make a swift dash for the exit but Mr. Cheese did not. He stayed put. He comforted me with wise words on how, as I had always hoped, that Mr. Workaholic had lost the best thing that ever happened to him. So sweet we sat in that beer garden surrounded by very loud, drunken, middle-aged people and we talked away for hours. It almost seemed that everyone else just melted away and we were the only two in the world. I loved it. Everything was so relaxed and laid back. My worries of getting serious and falling were suddenly gone and both Mr. Cheese and I agreed that we liked things how they were and not to change them until we were both ready. 

After last orders were called I invited him back to mine where we simply kissed and he called a cab. And that was it, but for some odd reason my bed felt comfier that night, softer than ever before and I fell into a deep sleep. Saturday morning came and went as I passed most of the day lounging in bed listening to old songs thinking about the future with someone other than my Mr. Workaholic. It then suddenly dawned on me. I was thinking about sex. But not just general sex, I was thinking about soft and passionate embraces, lust-filled and exciting with someone other than my Ex! Oh what a feeling it is to realise you are now free from his wretch'ed face! Nevertheless I had to get up at some point as I was meant to be joining Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb on a night out with an old acquaintance of theirs, Miss Stuu. Sadly though we never made it to the planned night out as both me and Miss Tweedle-Dumb had subsequently redecorated the inside of Miss Stuu's mothers car. I have never felt guilt like it and both me and the Tweedle's were in bed by ten that night.  

Sunday morning broke and it suddenly dawned on me that date number three is on the horizon. I checked my phone as it bleeped with four messages from what appeared to be a very, very intoxicated Mr. Cheese. Laughing along with Miss Tweedle-Dumb we set a time where we would both be able to make some sort of recovery. Making the journey back to Bedford with Miss Tweedle-Dumb, stopping en-route for a burger from a fast food chain the conversation soon turned to relationships and where things were destining for me and my Cheesey friend, although thankfully I was able to just shrug it off with a few simple answers, although in my head I hoped that maybe in the future something good would come of me muddling up my bridges and meeting that quirky Mr. Cheese.

Arriving home I changed, showered and beautified myself before spending the late afternoon wandering round the parks and rivers of Bedford with Mr. Cheese on our third date. A wonderful afternoon, only to be topped off with a fiery evening of making out on my sofa. It could have gone a lot further if I wanted it. Hell, it could have gone all the way if I hadn't kept cool and collected. Although I would be lying if I said that I wasn't disappointed that we didn't fall asleep together that night. It sounds so simple when writing that we just made out - But for nearly three hours he made me feel like a million dollars. Sweet kisses to my neck and bust made me giddy with excitement and anticipation. I had not felt like that in years and can barely remember a time when Mr. Workaholic had made me feel so wanted. Although just as the passion was taking a hold and the intense sexual chemistry hit a peak whilst Mr. Cheese and I straddled one another on the floor kissing madly I murdered the moment by asking when the last train was. Probably should have kept quiet given the heat of the moment. I didn't want him to miss the last train back to London where he lives though and in all honestly wanted to wait for a few more dates until I 'put out'.

And so Mr. Cheese left. Although this time there shall be a long gap between our next encounters since the jammy bastard is off on a fortnight long, all expenses paid, family holiday  to the hot and luscious islands of Greece. Well I think Greece is an island? (Hmmm) So now I wait and think about what could have been but also of what might be. Where will this go and will it end like last time? I shall have to wait and see, but I am positive that Cupid has well and truly got us with his arrow ... 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx