Another week goes by

I knew that I'd have difficulty keeping up once work got more intense, but I'm also going through a bit of a writing low recently. I've got a post on dildos lined up, but other than that I just wish I had more time to write.

Today something of some note happened with co-worker which got me thinking. He walked up behind me and was talking to people over my shoulder and he directed some of what he was saying towards me, I turned to look at him and saw him so close and I instinctively leaned back (my shoulders to his chest) onto him. Later in the morning I was leaning over to clean up an area on a desk and he backhanded my ass. And to be honest I wasn't wearing anything provocative, Jeans, black coop neck shirt and a tweed jacket, very low kitty heel square toed shoes. My hair was pulled up tight in a messy bun and a shiny black headband. (I wonder if it's the hair pulled up like that. It's weird, guys tend to flirt more when my hair is pulled up like that.)

It is not the first time he has done that. It's the second. The first was last year, it was a flick. This time was a full on backhanded bump, not quite a slap, he had something in his hand. It was fully intentional though. It made me smile. I'm not sure anyone noticed... Although I wouldn't be surprised if my grin was noticed.

*****

At the lunch cafeteria today we got back onto the topic of hair grooming below the waist, luckily I was not the only girl present this time, but we somehow came right back to my own hair maintenance habits. What ultimately came out of the conversation was that in summer it's basically easy to tell what a woman does with her hair (I've been on a boat in bikini with these men).

I had no idea. I didn't think men even looked at that kind of thing. I hadn't realised that they paid attention to it. 

It will make me self conscious from now on. 

*****

I screwed up kinda bad the other day while texting Rob. It was even funny... I'd say it was a totally random set of events. 

Here's the deal, to hide Rob in my phone I've memorised his number under a London girl's name. So let's say my friend's name was Ronda, I memorised her name as Ronda and Rob's name as RONDA. She lived in Italy but they both live in GB now so if he texts me it'll be in English and bf won't suspect who it is. He'll think it's her. It's perfect. Except for the fact that I could get confused. 

Well I was texting Rob yesterday, I told him I was on line, he said he was at work, and then I actually tried (for the first time ever ) to call him. There was no answer. I sent him a message saying "I tried calling you... bla bla bla"

I got a text saying "How're you doing? I've got a new job..."

And I answered "Woah, where'd that come from? are you still working shifts? I want to catch up!...blah blah blah"

I ran out of space and didn't put the usual x's I put on every text, and I didn't say miss you or anything naughty.

The text came back saying "I got the job while I was still in Italy". And I looked at the name better and freaked. It was my girl friend! phew..... man, I'm glad I didn't say something like, I really want to suck your cock or something worse!

Hah... I did however apologise to her saying that I thought someone else had written me. I doubt she even blinked.

I'll just have to pay better attention. But it was random that she happened to text me in the midst of texting Rob. 

memory lane.

Hello my bloggies!

It has been a while. Here's what I've been up to: working, working, working, flirting, working, sleeping, working, working, flirting, eating, sleeping, working.

That's about it.

One interesting thing I did do though was pick up some boxes that my dad sent me 9 years ago after he sold the house back home. I then left these boxes at a friend's house because I didn't have space for them and 9 years later I went to pick them up.

I've been going through them. It's kinda scary. It's all stuff that I had when I was 10. I've been reading my diaries from when I was in elementary school. They're hilarious. I was totally obsessed with boys. On every single entry, which was almost every day, I wrote I love David, a kid that was in my class. Yep, I was interested in sex at the age of 10. Ok, maybe not sex, but I did mention how good it felt when they touched me, in ANY way, even if they grabbed me or touched my hair.
I would go looking for guys on the street. I would chase them on my bike. I was a depraved little girl.

Aahh the memories.

I think the best part though is the notes I passed in Jr. High school with friends. I almost cried laughing reading some of them. Me and a friend of mine used to make fun of one teacher in specific. We thought he was a total loser. Actually I'm pretty sure he was a total loser. But we drew the funniest pictures of him. We were actually really morbid about it too, cutting him into pieces and hanging him out to dry. It was insane.

I'm going to have to sit and read all that stuff at some point.

Right, so that's how I'm spending my weekend. Sorting through all the boxes. There's so much stuff I have to get rid of, it's kind of sad. I just don't have space for it all.

*****

On a different note. I spent yesterday cringing at the lunch table. I was the only woman again with three guys. Luckily my co-worker wasn't there, I'd have been even more embarrassed. My guy friends started talking about hair removal. One of my friends owns a beauty salon and he had the hair on his arm waxed and he started suggesting the other guys do the same. Then the topic moved to the lower parts of the body and I wasn't really involved in this conversation, I was obviously interested, but I wasn't participating. He kept suggesting one of our hairier friends to groom his pubic hair, not wax it... which would undoubtedly be painful (apparently some guys do it), but to groom it with a hair trimmer.

Somehow my friends managed to embarrass one of the waitresses that works there by asking her if she liked hairy men or not. And then the conversation turned to women and what women do. There are now shapes that can be obtained in the female aesthetics of hair grooming: stars, arrows, a strip et.
My friend turned to me and said, "you have a very short groomed strip or at most slight triangle". And I just wanted to slip under the table and hide. These are guys are always joking about sex and I'm right along with it. But how I groom my hair is just not something I really want these men to be thinking about when I see them. Two are married the other is heavily involved. Anyhow I didn't confirm nor deny what he had suggested, although he is very close. My other married friend said "that's what you want to think, not the reality" Heh.
Too funny.

So my realisation from this conversation is that given the opportunity, since one had a huge crush on me when I met him years ago, the other is flirting with me like crazy (the one that owns a beauty salon), and the other who would screw anything he could get his hands on, they'd all fuck me. It's kinda scary, they're all such good friends. I wouldn't give them up for anything. But the reality is they're men. They'd probably even gang-bang me if I suddenly came out with it. They might have some moral problems with the it at first, but they'd do it.

This is all pure fantasy people. There's no way in hell that this would ever come close to happening unless we all got incredibly drunk one evening in some abandoned place without my boyfriend around. And even then I doubt it would happen.

But the knowledge that they'd do it kinda weirds me out.

*****

Salut friends, I'll hopefully get more writing in the next while. I probably won't be as busy with stuff as I was this week, and I'll try to take some HNT pictures this weekend.

One strange thing is that I haven't written in over a week and I've gained 4 followers. Strange eh...

I want my Co-worker... bad

I've discovered something interesting. I was invited to the inauguration of a couple art shows two weeks ago. My cute co-worker was going and so was my boss and other pseudo friends so I decided to tag along. Free food, free alcohol, why not? oh yeah and art ;-)

I went on my own hoping that my co-worker would be there alone too. He wasn't, he brought his girlfriend along. I was not disappointed much because it was enlightening and interesting. I found that he isn't touchy feely with me when his girlfriend is around. I kinda figured he was like that with everyone all the time. But he's not. His girlfriend looked at me funny when I touched his elbow to get his attention at one point. He didn't socialise with me much at all.

All in all I like her, she's a little shy, almost aloof, but when I got talking to her I found that she has the same sense of humour I do.

It was unfortunate that she was there though in a certain sense because I was half hoping to get drunk with him and have some flirty fun. But that was obviously not on the agenda with her there.

At work comments continue and he often tempts me and I tempt him. It's becoming something of a bad habit. Sooner or later someone is going to say something.

When we go to lunch together he always sits next to me now. Today though I noticed that he kept his arm touching mine. I don't normally notice things like this, I feel like a teenager saying this, but there was a lot of intention in that placing. We both kept our arms on the table touching, but just barely brushing. Neither of us moved. When he would move away to get his phone or a pen, he would move his arm right back where it was. We weren't in the least crowded or cramped into the space either, we had a lot of space around us to move but we both kept our arms there intentionally. We both need the physical contact.

If we keep going down this road, we're going to end up regretting something... or not, but it will get messy.

I think I might tell him that one of these days I'm going to jump on him if he keeps tempting me. It'll be one of those jokes non joke. Like the one I said today: "I've had too much garlic people, no kisses please!"
And he yelled out: "Nooooo, darned it."

The whole thing, especially thinking about his arm touching mine, makes my tummy jump.

Convincing myself

He knows exactly which buttons to press to turn me on

He knows how to mind fuck me. The mind fucking isn't always sexual, it can be games, or words.

We don't need to see each other or get naked to get turned on.

We don't use audio so it's not the voice that does it.

It's the words.

It's like a safe, you have to put in the right combination. With voice and video it's easier (in my opinion) to turn someone on. But it's not as easy with single words. Sentences aren't necessary. He can do it through a text message on my phone or through msn or through Skype.

Should I talk about love?

Well the deal is this. I've been asked by him and a few others if I'm in love with him. My answer is a constant NO for one main reason. I don't know him. Despite 9 years (or more) of chatting on internet, seeing each other on video and even meeting once in real life. There is no way that I could possibly know who he is without interacting with him in a social environment more than once. Internet is like a desert island, it's just the two of us. No outside factors to deal with no interactions with others. How could I possibly be in love with someone without truly understanding who he is.

What is it then?

I've done some research and I've finally decided upon infatuation. Now I used this word with him once and I may have repeated it here, but I was never really sure if it was the correct term and now I've been convinced by This article.

Funky funk.

Yes... the HNT this week is missing. I'm in a bit of a funk. Sorry.

I talked to Rob yesterday. I've spoken to him three times this week. The first was mentioned in my last post about him. The second was brief and rather sad because he was in a mood and was very untalkative. But he did promise to get me off that same evening. I tried staying up late that night to wait for him, but I got tired and went to bed. He apologised the next morning because he had also fallen asleep. We caught up that same morning on Skype bf happened to go out for 30 minutes so Rob had a quick opportunity to try to get me off.

It was a list of one words again, and it's insane how fast it gets me wet. Orders and commands and descriptions and sensations. It's an overload of mind fucking. I came twice... that is rare.

He was hard and wanted to get himself off, he said he was feeling naughty so I told him to cum for me.
Then bf came home... I told him to continue. I've never done that before... I mean watching Rob cum with bf coming through the front door. It was hot as hell. I want more, I want him.

I'm so horny that I fantasise about bf fingering me, or fucking me and I get wet, but when bf comes close I move away. I don't want it. It's probably not healthy. I need to get a grip on my(sexual)self I think. Or I just need to fuck Rob and get it over with.

I'm working on that too. I checked flights over to London and they're dirt cheap these days. I just need to figure out if I can get away with it for work.

Inferno

I happened across a new art exhibition today in an old church. It's Dante Alighieri month and it is an exhibit on the Divine Comedy. Well The church has the front door and a big painting on a wall in front of you when you walk in. Then you need to decide whether to go right or left past the wall. I chose left. Who knows why.

As you may already know Dante's Divine Comedy is divided into four parts. Heaven, Purgatory, Limbo and Hell.

Well I just happened to enter into the Hell side. I walked all the way round the back of the church and back down the other side which was Purgatory then Heaven.

I can't help but think that somehow it all means something that I did it all in that order. Ok so the book was written in that order, but still... Why did I have to go left?

In any case a funny thing happened. At the exit there was a table with postcards on it depicting some of the paintings in the exhibit. Each visitor could take a postcard each. I studied them all and chose the one I liked best, but I couldn't remember having seen the painting so I asked the guard. He took me back to where the paintings were and said that it must be there somewhere because he had seen it. I looked at each painting closely but could not find mine. Then, from a dark curtained room in the middle of the church, that I thought was off limits, the guard reappeared saying "It's in Limbo!". I cracked up. I thought it was pretty ironic that the "missing" painting would be in limbo.

It was a spectacular painting. I might have to go back and study it some more.

Conversation with Rob

The conversation was good for a few reasons: one is that I never get tired of the conversations (unless he's in the non-talkative mood). Two, I got pictures of his cock. He trimmed his hair so I told him to take pictures for me... it was a turn on to say the least.... I love pics of his cock. I now have a collection.
Three because we played a word game we used to play often. It starts with one word, and you have to find all the possible combinations that have the same endings. This time it started with a typo "nop"and went through, bop, mop, top, cop, sop... you get the idea, until someone can't think of something or comes up with a word that doesn't exist. Lastly because of a portion of conversation that stuck in my mind.
It went like this:

rob: i should be doing stuff
me: me too. we're bad.
rob: we are. whens it going to end
me: which? being bad?
rob: yeah
me: never I hope....
rob: me too
me: are you getting tired?
rob: nope. just older
me: me too

Candlelight hopes

I came home yesterday afternoon after a lunch with bf and friends to find myself strangely taken over by someone else's brain.

I actually started tidying and cleaning the whole house. Something inside me must have snapped. It has something to do with the fact that my londoner girlfriend gave me a bunch of towels, bedding and placemats since she decided to go back home. I wanted to make the house neat and find space for all these things.

I spent the whole evening, while bf was at work, cleaning and tidying instead of playing on skype or perving on internet. I'm proud of myself. Not only that but I decided to surprise him too.

I drew arrows on printer paper, they went to the washroom first, where I wrote he should brush his teeth and wash his hands. Then they went to the bedroom.

I set little tea candles along the arrow signs, and more candles in the bedroom. I have berry tea candles, so I used those for the bedroom.

I got myself dressed in my black corset, black lace panties and stay up nylons. I pulled back the covers on the bed and lay waiting till he got home. I read until he got back from work and as soon as I heard his key in the lock I turned off my light.

He laughed and called out to me, saying that he didn't think anyone was home. He kept laughing from the hallway saying how much of a dork I am. He said (from the hallway still) that he wasn't going to tie me up (I've been begging him forever) and he refused to wash his hands and brush his teeth. He came directly into the bedroom praying that I hadn't tied myself up. And when he saw me all dressed up he giggled and said, you didn't tie yourself up did you?

He then stood in the doorway and said he wasn't feeling well. When I didn't answer he went off to the washroom and washed his hands, cock and brushed his teeth.

Nothing really went as I had planned.

He came in, sat down on the bed and proceeded to say he had to call his mother. So then a 15 minute telephone call ensued where he just left me on the bed. I can't blame him for the telephone call, it was important. But he could have come into the bedroom to keep me company at least.

He finally came back in and got undressed on his own. That was something I wanted to do for him, and give him a little head before starting on the sexcapades. The rest went as it was supposed to. It was more normal than I had wanted, but it was nice none the less.

My climax was good, I was upright on top facing him ( as usual ) and he had pulled my corset down to expose my breasts. He unusually stuffed 2 fingers in my mouth deep. He normally just probes a little with one. But with two almost in my throat it was hot. I tilted my head back, and the saliva ran onto his fingers and he pulled them out to lubricate my nipple. As soon as he did that I came.

We laid there after his small climax... I'm guessing it had something to do with the fact that he wasn't feeling well... quietly on the bed, me laying on his thighs, we talked a little and then he asked me if I'd be offended if he got up.

He went and caught football/soccer on the tv and I stayed in the bedroom to read.

All in all, I had my hopes up too high probably. I was hoping it would be a little more romantic.

He did say that it was a relief that I was around because I could liven up the relationship a bit (it's a pretty bad translation, but it's the closest I can get).

Dildo

So I've had some interesting evenings recently and I thought I'd tell the tales.
The first was a birthday party. It was a fairly dressy dinner thing with a mixed group of people from different places. 3 Americans (two women and a gay man), a gay Swiss man, a gay Argentinean man, a man from Nigeria (if I'm not mistaken), and a handful of Italians. Most were men.

My end of the table had the two American women one of which was from a town she nicknamed Mildew. Which brought to mind where my grandparents are from. Dildo. Yes folks, there's a town in Canada called Dildo. It's in Newfoundland.

Oh yes it was a good laugh indeed when I explained this. It always is. And I love that this town is in my history. The Americans then asked the Italians how to say dildo in Italian. And we realised that there is no such word to translate this object. There's the word vibrator, but not dildo. So then we started wondering the etymology of the word dildo. ( I have decided to do further research on the subject and will post about it at some point).

Then that friend of mine, the british girl that I would go out and get occasionally drunk with decided to go back to London. She decided to have a last girls day with me and the friend we have in common. It was an evening of drinking vodka, wine and cleaning her apartment so that she didn't have to do it alone. I diligently washed her fridge. I mentioned the evening out at the birthday party and brought up the dildo conversation. And the conversation went way further than I would have possibly imagined. 

Let me give you a rundown on the two girls. The Londoner is a 28 yr old girl who flirts tons, probably sleeps around a little, but overall is a good and pretty normal girl. Then there's our friend in common who is usually really pretty uptight and shy, although she has these strange outbursts of flirtiness when guys are around. She's a huntress and wants her prey. She's pretty, blond, nice tits but the general consensus on her personality is that she's odd and somewhat annoying. 

Let's get back to the conversation. Right, so the Londoner joked saying she had three vibrators, I asked what colours. And then our blond friend admitted that one of the guys that works with her bought her three vibrators. Among which one that was black and studded with rhinestones. hunh.... who'dve guessed? 

Since we were cleaning out the Londoner's apartment and taking anything she wasn't going to take back with her I asked her what was in her top dresser drawer. She squealed and refused to let me see what was inside. I jumped to the obvious conclusion that her vibrator was in there. 

I caught a glimpse of what was in there while the other two were off dumping garbage. Yep it was a bright pink rabbit.

It looked something like this.... not exactly but I was drunk and didn't want to pull it out of her drawer to get a good look at it.

So I have to make one confession. I flirted with the Londoner. If there was any girl I'd get into bed with, it'd be her I think, while I was really drunk though. I don't know if she caught on, she might have just assumed I was being playful or over zealous. In any case, I found her trying to sleep on the bed at one point, she was pretty drunk, and I practically jumped on her. But all's good (so to speak), nothing happened... darn eh?

She's gone now, I'm sad, and I'll miss her, but I'll see her in London next time I go. So that is ok.

HNTied up

*I'm a little tied up at the moment. Yours truly will be getting back to regular posting as soon as things settle down here.*

The Country Story

***This is the story that Rob told me the other day. The one that he told me to use in case things got stressful or frustrating here. Remember that this was written in chat, I put it into paragraphs, changed the punctuation a bit, but it was actually written a portion of a sentence at a time, so the story reflects that quite a bit. Nothing else was changed apart from a couple spelling errors. ***

The light zephyr of wind blows while the warm sun beats gently down.

Wearing sunglasses shorts and a tee shirt, with the smell of freshly cut lawns, I walk across a deserted village street, over the fence and down a tree-lined avenue of hanging willow trees. A cobbled path uneven under foot, the sound of bird song, green grass brushing on my legs.

The avenue ends, another fence to climb.

I hop over the fence with 2 steps, spring down onto my feet with no care in the world into a field of golden barley swaying gently in the breeze.

I look into the distance, about 400 yards away I see the outline of beauty walking away from me, the silhouette of a dark figure against the golden background: Long flowing hair, shorts and a tied up top.

I think nothing of it and keep walking.

One field passes into another.

This one is filled with thick tall maize about 8 foot high. It smells wonderful the corn has flowered and is ready to ripen.

The pathway gets narrower and the sunlight gets dimmer as the tall corn stretches competing with each other for the sun’s rays.

The surroundings look all the same it’s getting darker and quieter.

A chink of light appears in the distance so I head for that.

Some 10 minutes pass

I appear on the other side, somehow touched by the spiritual sensation gained from being in an alien environment back into the warm sunlight and wondering where the girl I saw had disappeared to.

I look around, there was no sign, so I kept on walking.

Tall trees and wild flowers are my world now. Then down a winding path over a fence and onto the small one-track road that looks like it hadn’t been used for some time. With every footstep a puff of dust comes up making my sneakers dusty.

My throat now dry and beads of sweat starting to show on my brow, I make my way down the small winding road where signs of life start to emerge.

A road sign, a stray dog barks at me and then the road opens up onto a small village green. A bench sits alone on the green where a small brass plaque screwed onto it reads:

in loving memory of Cyril Smith 1935-1994

I wonder who he was and what he did.

I make my way into the village still wondering about Mr. Smith

I pass an old blacksmith’s forge where the old man stokes the fire, heating the shoes for an old shire horse that pulls his wagon up and down the local town.

He collects scrap iron for extra income.

Past the forge there is a butcher’s shop where locals buy their fresh meat.

The fat butcher is sitting out in the sun with his faithful jack russell by his side.

I walk on and spot the village pub. So to quench my thirst I walk towards the pub and push hard on the heavy solid oak door that must have been there for over 200 years.

The smell of fresh hops and old wood greet me as I slide the door shut. A friendly landlord greets me at the bar.

“What shall it be?” he says.

“I’ll have a pint of your coldest larger”, which he greets with a frown because this is one of those real ale pubs where old men drink and compare warm flat ales. They usually have beards and wear sandals. (Of course I think this to myself).

He serves me anyway, and I hand over the money, grab a menu and sit down in the corner on an old wooden leather backed comfy chair.

After a couple of swallows of the cold drink fizzing on my tongue, the landlord comes over to me and asks if I would like to order from the menu.

I answer him: “yes I’ll have the fish”

I look around at the ancient walls, white with black timbers; old guns and shooting paraphernalia adorn the walls, old drinking tankards, and horse brasses: A typical English country pub that hadn’t changed for a hundred years, straight out of a period drama.

I sit back reach into my pocket pull out the paper and raise it to my eyes, shades on top of my head. I read about a woman who put a cat into a dustbin. She had been caught on cctv by a man across the street. After national outcry and death threats, the woman was on 24hr police guard.

I thought it was ironic

Under my paper I saw a small pair of what I thought would be size 6 feet wrapped in gladiator sandals. The feet came towards me and heard the words “you ordered the fish?”

I said yes, looked up and it was the smiling face of the beautiful girl I saw in the field.

Well I think it was, She had shorts and a tied up shirt. She smiled and laid down my food.

I pulled up may chair as she walked away. I glanced across as she left and I was convinced it was her. She looks over her shoulder and catches me checking out her ass. She winks and disappears into the kitchen.

I ate my food, which was ok I guess. My review in the local paper would reflect the quality and price of the food but it would never mention the girl who I saw in the fields. She was mine and I have held her close to my heart ever since.

THE END

Minors, bras, and other random updates

There are a few little things I wanted to catch up on before next week, but they're all relatively short, so I'll group them all together here.

Bf's brother is much better, they're thinking of sending him home tomorrow (Sunday). He has to go back of course to check on his bone marrow to see if the stem cells are working. But the fact that they're sending him home is excellent news. Fact was he was in such bad shape earlier this week that they thought he was on his way... So that's all good now.

Related to that is that bf's niece is back home too, she's no longer staying with us so I have more freedom, I can actually watch tv late or stay up without keeping bf awake in the bedroom.

________________________

Almost completely unrelated is that I have written up Rob's story and will be posting it Monday. I did that last night and I now have a very good memory of it. While today I went to a nearby town to go shopping we passed through the countryside and it kept reminding me of his story. It was nice, but I had to concentrate so that I wouldn't get all weepy. I didn't have a nice wake-up call this morning and it put me in a bit of a mood, that's probably why I was easily brought to an "emotional state". heheh

________________________

On my shopping adventure I bought two new bras, they're practically identical, one purple one black, but they're awesome and I love them.

________________________

Today I got a new friend request on FB from an ex student of mine. He's a friend of the 18 yr old student that I mentioned in another post about a dream, they used to come to lesson together, so yeah, they're the same age. 

Anyhoo, he started chatting me up on fb today in English. He just got back from 3 weeks in Australia for an English course there. He also said that he'd be going back at the end of this school year to go to Uni there. Then the weird thing happened. He asked me if I was going to the beach today and he was really insistent... I'm not sure what he was up to. I told him that I wasn't going, but then when I said that I'd like to go back to Australia he said that we should go together next year!!!! 

He ended the conversation with "there's lots of time to organize for Australia!!" I mean woah buddy!!!

So then I went to take a shower and while in there, I think lots, and I got this pang of want to go to the beach with him, wondering how he'd behave and what he wanted.... strange...I'm baffled. I mean I haven't seen this kid in a year. And now he comes up with this? Hunh.

________________________

On a last note, I'm horny as fuck today. I've had a week of tummy pain and stress, probably due to the family stuff, but I wasn't quite over some weird flu too. Today is the first day that I'm feeling good enough to be horny. Yay for horniness. 

HNT I want you

The pick visible is recent, the other is old, I'm not even sure, I may have posted it before...

Rob's recent effects on me.

Written yesterday after a conversation with Rob.

I've always known, but today I realised how important Rob is to me and how much I'd suffer if I ever lost touch with him.

He has been more present recently. He knows how much I've been going through lately and how much the situation weighs on me. Today I made the excuse of the translation again to hide in the bedroom. We chatted again, this time with video, although there were times I wished mine wasn't on. He just let me vent, asked me what was on my mind, told me to get things off my chest.

He's the only "real" person I can really talk to these days. Sad isn't it. We surround ourselves with friends but how many of them are willing to listen?

Anyhow I thanked him, told him how much it meant to me, and I cried. I don't know if he noticed. It's hard to see that kind of thing on cam. He went off to make toast at one point and I burst into tears at the thought that he was the only one who would really listen to what I had to say without judging or having an ulterior motive. By the time he got back I had managed pretend nothing was happening. Although he may have caught on. I kept sniffling.

Towards the end of the conversation the tides turned and he cheered me up. He even managed to turn me on with a list of single words, with a mini interruption of a telephone call on my end to make me squirm.

The nicest part was that he told me to keep the story he had written in our previous conversation in my mind, to think of it when things were tough, to read it again, rewrite it, post it, do anything I want with it as long as I keep it in mind for when I'm having hard times. It is possibly the sweetest thing he has said to me. And it is the sweetest thing anyone has said to me in a while.