I didn’t go back to the greasy spoon for lunch, but I happened to walk past on my travels. As I approached the cafe, he got out of a car parked outside and said hi to me…

I’ve just booked my Eurostar ticket to Paris on the 9-10 December. I’ll be hanging out with my penpal, Claudette. We’ve been writing to each other for about 8 or 9 years, and have met 3 times so far. She’s a sweet girl, very arty and intellectual.

I want to see the Eiffel Tower properly (I only saw it from afar the last time I visited 2 years ago), and I’d like to do some Christmas shopping in the department stores. On the Saturday evening I’d like to go to watch a musical or a film. On Sunday morning I’d like to nibble on a croissant in a traditional café before I catch my train home. I’d also like to take loads of pics, just for fun and my studies. Sounds like a plan.

Roadtrip!

Tried cold turkey Mark II today (though it was more like lukewarm turkey). I decided to leave my bank card at home and only bring a few pounds with me for the day to force myself to cut out the crappy food. Nice plan in theory, but without my usual soft drink I felt weak and miserable by lunchtime. With good intentions I found a nearby greasy spoon for a jacket potato with baked beans, but it wasn’t on the menu, so I opted for a cheese burger and chips (yeah, I know – great diet).

The guy in the restaurant had an unusual voice, kinda high-pitched yet gruff at the same time. You really have to listen when he speaks to you. He’s probably in his late 30s, has some grey in his hair, but today I realised that he’s kinda cute. To top it all off, he decided to clean the tables, and I had to avoid looking at his butt as he bent over near me! (And his butt was perfect!) When he called me “darling” I wanted to blush. Damn – I need a distraction! Note to self: I’ve gotta avoid that cafe – it’s bad for my health in more ways than one!

Moving on….
I’ve been suffering from a headache for the last few hours, which started during a 3 hour meeting that I had with my manager at the talking shop. I’m going to have to revisit the old routine of taking painkillers before the meeting, like I used to at the uni. I’m starting to feel better now, thank goodness.

Most people I know have one. The Ex. Not just any old ex-lover, but the one whom we loved most intensely, and who broke our hearts when he/she left.

I saw that ex last Friday morning on the train. I’d missed my usual train to work and had to take a different route. I sat down at a window seat and listened to mid-tempo RnB while I looked out the window.

I don’t why, but he crossed my mind when the train arrived at his old stop. I wondered whether he still lived around there. Then as if I’d caused him to appear I saw him preparing to get on the train. He walked past me and sat in the next row, facing away from me. All I could see was the back of his head. He had cut his hair, but I was 99% sure it was him.

I felt strangely numb, like I was prodding at a scar, expecting to feel pain but instead feeling nothing but a healed wound. I couldn’t help but look at the back of his head, thinking about the strangeness of being so near to someone for whom I had cared so much and with whom I’d shared so much intimacy.

I could not talk to him. I was afraid of confronting the past. I was afraid that he’d turn around and see me. That he’d see that I had not changed in the last five years. I felt awkward. I remembered the scene in Sex and The City when Miranda ran away from Steve after their breakup. I wouldn’t have done that if he’d seen me, but I could appreciate her embarrassment.

I’d had boyfriends before him, but I hadn’t fallen for any of them. I fell for him, but in my heart I knew that he didn’t feel the same way. He liked my personality primarily, not my looks. I  thought that he was so cute and funny, and I didn’t think that I was pretty enough for him. I guess I was waiting for him to figure that out, and he did, eventually.

I’d felt so inadequate that I gave him things to show my affection – a hat, a t-shirt, a watch. I gave him a neck chain for Christmas which he lost in a fight.

I wondered how his child was. He had had a girl with his previous girlfriend, and had been going through a lot of drama with her.

He was a few years older than me, so he must be about 30 now. He’s probably in some high-powered computing job – he was training in that field when we were together.

All of those things were running through my mind.

I forced myself to look away from him and look out of the window at the unfolding scenery. I was rewarded by the sight of a rainbow. Although I could still see him out of the corner of my eye, I focused on the rainbow and the message that I could take from nature’s lesson.

At my stop I rose to my feet. I took one last look at him then left the train in a melancholy mood.