I got an e-mail. It reads as follows:
“I understand you have to be careful who reads what but the main (though part of a huge) reason I check your site is to see how things are going on the relationship front. Unresloved plot thread left dangling needs a knot tied in it.”
Okay. Time to expose self to the world. My most recent object of intrigue has literally fallen off the planet. Completely. Gone without a trace. After flirting our way through the sale of Land Rover (don’t ask), and going out for a meal, and going up the NatWest tower, and doing any number of dubious things all over the place (behaving very badly), we finally managed to have an evening alone with each other and I haven’t heard from him since! I thought I might be more affected by this turn of events than I actually am. It still seems like a pity to me, but it’s nothing I can’t live with. He knows I write about stuff here, so he’ll probably read this and get really pissed off with me. Still, what can you do, eh?
Anyway, in the two weeks since I last saw him, Sam turned up out of the blue at lunch time and we chatted. The most memorable part of the conversation was that apparently you can’t buy decent stretchy black underpants in Cambridge (which I wasn’t aware of until now). It’s was lovely to see him again. And then a couple of days ago, this guy called Sean re-appeared in the UK. He’s very cool, is doing a Classics doctorate (so we could talk about Froma Zeitlin and Jean-Pierre Vernant which was nice), likes Buffy the Vampire Slayer and is an obsessive foodie. Honestly though, I don’t think I have the energy any more!