18

And this is how lovely she was:

There once was a guy called Rory,

Who apparently seemed to adore me,

Could there anywhere be,

A girl lucky as me,

With a smart sexy boyfriend there for me.

Ok, not a great last line – but she did write it in about thirty seconds straight off the top of her head.

And two minutes later:

O Rory you are so divine,

I’m happy to say you are mine,

With such a nice bum,

And a flat washboard tum,

You are really quite wonderf’ly fine.

And:

This bohemian boyfriend of mine,

Never drinks beer or wine,

Well that’s works for me,

‘Cos when I’m tipsy,

He’ll make sure I’m home in quick time.

So this was all in texts last Saturday, two days before she came to her ‘great decision’. You also calls me “sweetie” and “sugar” and apologises for various things – and shows concern when she thinks I want a “serious talk” and also *sobs* when I don’t text her for a while (“please will you reply?”; yes, I was mad at her; perhaps unreasonably so). She texts me probably every hour at least, and at 15.34 on Monday sends me this:

Ok my darling, I think the plan tonight should be that you do your thang and I’ll do as much work as I can then you should come over when you’re done and tell me all about it before giving it to me good. Lol. In a romantic and loving way. And also maybe we can have a conversation. What do you think?x

And then various other texts and then 11pm and I walked in her door and she said, “I need to tell you something; I’ve been thinking about it for a while; I’ve come to a decision.”

“When?” I said, after I’d heard her out.

“A few hours ago,” she said, “but I’ve been thinking these things for a while – and if I’m having doubts now…well that must mean something.”

Everyone has doubts, I think, probably their whole lives – but I don’t say anything.

“I mean – don’t you have doubts?”

I shake my head. I did – but I don’t now. And even if I do – who cares? A trace of doubt will always be there, surely, at this early stage in a relationship.

She talked and said her stuff and I stared. I don’t know why I didn’t say anything – didn’t challenge her on this stuff. Would it have helped? I’m not sure. But maybe I should’ve…

Before all that, back in poem land, I wrote her this:

On a low day in Leeds, after playing the fool,

A pretty girl said, hi there, and made me feel cool,

She cheered me up; she took me by surprise,

She had the sweetest of faces; sad soulful eyes,

And over a tub of horrible chews,

I went and fell in love – but then shocking news!

She was taken, by another; she had a boyfriend,

And pop! went my dreams, of snuggling her in bed.

Several months passed, and we spoke no more,

Till one day in Hyde Park, I came to her door,

We chatted, and flirted, late into the night,

And a friendship was born, to my heart’s delight,

And over the weeks, the friendship grew strong,

And closer together, our minds became one,

Till watching the fireworks, on November the Fifth,

Our hands slipped together, and later we kissed.

Oh what joy I found, in her gorgeous face!

What happiness, and splendour, in her warm embrace!

In love, I fell, deeper – ever deeper down,

Our entwined naked bodies: why, I see them now.

I’d felt that for me, love had passed by,

I was wrong, now I see; for that I could cry –

With joy, don’t you see, for I’m one lucky guy,

My cheeky chimpy girlfriend is tastier than pie.

There was love, there, in those preceding hours and days…

She loves me…she loves me not…