Sunday, 5 September 2010

First love gets hitched and all I get is this lousy...

The spring in my step teamed with almost unbearable enthusiasm for life, love and lust, there had to be a catch...

Via Skype, I was catching up with an old friend.

Him:  You know your suchandsuch is getting married?


You: So I hear, it's about time.  I hope he's... they're... both chuffed (I hadn't heard, a lump was caught in my throat, I blamed a dodgy internet connection and said we'd have to finish the call by phone).

When I broke up with my first love suchandsuch it was inevitable, we were too young, too in love and loved to argue a little too much.  Although we haven't seen each other in years, I get the occasional Facebook poke and Christmas card (let's skip over the sporadic phone sex).

Suchandsuch has been engaged a few times (to different women) since his time with me, this time though he's set a date.  This was the only man I could have seen myself marrying and he was getting married to someone else.

I hate it when nostalgia comes with a knuckle sandwich.

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