Retail therapy: bad for the wallet, good for the soul

So basically GBL and I spent one incredible night together. I wore a fitted black dress (so fitted it looked painted on) with diamante heels and gradually through the evening his arm was getting more comfortable around his waist. We had an amazing time, I loved it, I didn't do the typical chick thing and fire 100 questions a minute, I just enjoyed the moment (and so glad I did now).

Two days later I get a call from him, being evasive and talking trivialities. I couldn't bare his tip-toeing any longer and just decided to get to the point in the kindest way possible. So I gently asked him, "What's on your mind?" I don't think he was quite expecting this, but I'm hoping that at this point he realises that I don't act like most girls as I hate to do the norm. He became profusely apologetic and took all the blame for what had happened the night before. He apologised for his behaviour and for leading me on. It DID knock the wind out of me and because of the shock I really couldn't respond, which probably worked to both our favours as I saved him from the potential abuse I could have hurled at him, which would have soured our friendship. Instead I injected humour into the situation and tried to make little quips when I found my voice. I'm guessing at this point he really could not believe his luck that he could have been let off so easily. If I'm to be truly honest at this point it was because I'd left quite a bit of money with him and I didn't want to lose it!

After the phone call had ended, I was incredibly angry and upset. How could he have been sorry for what had happened? I treasured that moment, then he came and p!$ed all over it in spectacular fashion! No, I wouldn't let him do this. I'd make him sorry that he'd done this to me... and so forth. In all honesty, I realised the only thing hurt was my pride. GBL was someone who I had fancied - past tense - but I realised I still liked him as a friend, I really did. The fact that he wanted us to still continue to be friends, for me to not stop calling or talking to him, to not cut him out of my life, hopefully (and I really do mean that because otherwise I'll sound incredibly naive) meant that he felt the same way I did.

I also realised, he wasn't the one I really wanted, and therefore, not a loss to be mourned, but to turn into a friend to treasure. I woke up feeling much better, happier and of course in the mood to leave the house. So I did. However, whether it was down to some sort of deep, repressed anger or sadness, I found that my recently cleared credit card was going to resurface. I found myself walking to the Topshop flagstore on Oxford Street. Now normally I only walk into that place to buy earrings as I never find their clothes to be flattering or reasonably priced. Today, however, I walked in with an open mind and a brand new card, which brought about a brand new respect for the high street giant.

I could not believe that considering it was a Sunday, how comfortable it was to roam around the store and find some little treasures tucked away in the racks, how their bags were actually truly elegant and how their silky mini skirts looked so feminine. As I passed the Fairtrade section of the store my eye caught the sight of something truly brilliant. In the t-shirt section was the perfect garment that should be used as a 'pick-me-up' for all girls whose hearts have been broken, whose self-confidence has taken a hit, or who in general want to show their sentiments to the world. The t-shirt read "I recycle boys". It was love at first sight. That was the last item I put in my basket, and I think the best buy of the lot (I got a silk, mini skirt from the Kate Moss selection which puts it in a close second as everyone knows you need to be tiny to fit into that stuff - ego boost points galore with that one!). When I got to the counter, I realised that my poor little account was going to take quite a beating for this unscheduled bit of retail therapy, but I walked the high streets of London (and Soho) feeling incredibly proud and empowered. I knew that tomorrow I was going to wear this t-shirt proudly to university, to my meeting with my supervisor and of course through the streets of London.

If there is one thing I believe a girl must have in her wardrobe, it must be an attitude enhancing garment or confidence boosting one - ladies, I believe I've found mine!

PS. I'm posting that picture on my facebook profile... let's hope he has as much of a sense of humour as I do.

Under the street lamp is...

I wish I wasn't 26.
I wish I wasn't addicted to men.
I wish I didn't have a weakness for men who have sweet smiles, but even sexier voices.
I wish I didn't have a weakness for men who are 6'+.

Dr. Pete Finch tells Adison that he's going to kiss her, and kiss her with tongue so she can feel it. My mind drifts to that night, standing under the street lamp, staring into each other's eyes, our respective hands in our pockets. He stands there looking down at me with such a sexy smile. "I was just wondering if I could kiss you." It was probably from the sambuca I had minutes earlier which probably made me bug my eyes. I started babbling, but that didn't put him off. He leaned in and I could feel a pair of lips press against mine. I was quiet and I was lifted away...

I love that feeling. Those 'lamp light' moments where you can feel the tension, your heart flutters, your skin tingles. You may close your eyes but you can see what's coming. Your lips part in slight anticipation. Your curiosity reaches its peak, wondering how they'll kiss you, will it be good? Will it be earth shattering? Will it be like two slugs meeting in the night? Will he smell good or will he stink of garlic? Or worse, are you going to get hooked on him?

My hands never left my pockets that night, but they didn't need to. My lips were tingling and I honestly couldn't think of anything. I was lost in that moment. I want more of those moments. I will one day meet someone who will always give me those moments. Moments where my breath is caught in my throat. Moments where I cannot feel my toes because all the blood is rushing to my head. Moments where my hands want to be everywhere but can't because I only have two of them. Moments where I don't want them to end. I will meet someone like that, I just have to get past all the frogs first...

Jazz and romance...

I'm sitting here with a cup of coffee, looking at his picture. Yes, I finally got his picture as I asked for it in a roundabout way (said that it wasn't right he had pictures of me from presentation night to show his friends/work pals and I didn't have any). So this is what it's like to be romanced... taking things so slow. It's an odd feeling, I don't think I've been properly romanced like this. As sad as that sounds, it's so true. Only because I now realise that I tend to rush things.

Apparently he has the tendancy too, but this time, unspokenly, we both are taking it slow, and I like it. Dating, such a romantic concept. Sitting in a jazz restaurant, both dressed up, spending the evening dining on fine food, listening to great music and wrapped up in each other and great conversation. Learning about each other, building your profile of that person gradually. Learning what you have in common, understanding your differences. I can't help but blush everytime I think of how his eyes trace my lips, then my cheeks and then rest on my eyes. Those gorgeous blue eyes.

Somehow, I already trust him. I know that he doesn't want to hurt me. But I also know that there is that potential that I will. I know I will get attached to him and I know that there IS that possibility of getting hurt. But when you are in any relationship there is always that potential, so why allow yourself to become consumed with that worry? I did in my last relationship and I could never enjoy it. But then so was he and he constantly reminded me of it, so why did either of us hold on?

No, this one, this one seems to have a slightly more mature approach to life. Yes, we had a discussion about relationship, yes he poured a jug of ice cold water on me about what he thought of my opinions/beliefs. But he did not poo-poo them which I was greatful for, he was just a little more realistic about it. He made me feel better about it by pulling me close, kissing me on the lips ever so gently and stating that he would definitely see me again.

I like him, and hopefully I'll be able to pace myself a little more. I think we both want to, which can only be a good thing...