So last night after a really few stressful days I went out with this guy who has become a new good friend guy. We get on fantastically, he’s easy to talk to, he’s handsome, he’s lovely; he’s a friend.
As I was sinking my teeth into a huge juicy cheeseburger he said ‘Well, Violet, we should talk about sex.’
I spat my cheeseburger out, took a huge sip of whisky, had a panic attack and said:-
‘So hey, tell me about your day, how’s work going, all good?’
‘Don’t you want to talk about it at some point Violet…’
No no no, I said, vociferously. We defintely dont want to talk about sex, not even think about sex. We have such a good thing going, why would we mess it up. There will be no sex, ever, oh god, no. Just no.
You can see I was in a state, I’d stopped using any kind of punctuation or good grammar. I’d also gone bright red, my heart was insane, my entire body in a state of panic.
‘Because we might be good together?’ he carried on.
I continued asking about his day. My day. Any day. Every day. Anything to avoid the maybe sex subject.
He humoured me. We changed the subject. Finished our meal, had fun, definitely no touching.
As he kissed me goodnight, on the cheek that I offered gently, he laughed.
What’s with you, he asked. You can have sex with someone you don’t like but not with someone you do like.
He knows about The Difficult Guy.
Haha I giggled haha funny true god I have no idea, I said.
And went inside, NEVER TO TALK ABOUT IT AGAIN.