FUUUUUUCCCCCCKKKKK! Why am I doing this to me?
I should just have let it lie. Bumping into John accidentally and feeling butterflies is one thing. I won't claim it was unavoidable but it it was a chance meeting. And it felt good. Did I have to then email him and say that it had been good bumping into him? Did I have to suggest meeting up for a chat when he was next in the area? Probably not, but I didn't think, couldn't stop myself, it felt right. Then, when he got back I couldn't make it, didn't want to upset Frank, it was his week off after all.
Then Wednesday, John's email. "I'm possibly coming through on Friday ... does that work for you?" And after deliberations for half the morning I said "yes". Had even concocted a lie for Frank. Then you phoned. The plan changed. Instead of an evening meeting, it was 2 o'clock at the station and a long walk in Pollock Park. Suited me well, in fact it was better. Lie one was followed up with lie two, my friends had canceled, he was none the wiser.
The day came, I walked to the station took the train waited, listening to the Sisters of Mercy crying out for "more". We went to the park and after slightly awkward beginnings of re-acquaintance things went smoothly. A nice afternoon. Me mainly silent, John telling me of the place he went as a child, his friends, dead and alive, Ralf, Kerry, Lee. Had food. John thinking deeply, as always, me feeling slightly inadequate, having lead a sheltered life compared to him, nevermind Ralf. I've never met a more beautiful person than you. No wonder I'm still smitten. Which makes me feel awful. And I cannot talk to anybody about this either, which does not make it any easier. There is a reason why Larry Brown called his short story collection "Big Bad Love".