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Fiona update

17 June, 2017

So as promised, a bit of a catch up. As I told you yesterday morning, there had been many many texts between me and Fiona since we accidentally met last Friday. I had a few plans for the week that I wasn’t able to get out of, and she is a single mum who is also a nurse who works shifts, so her getting free time at all is an issue a lot of the time. Which all meant that it was nearly a week before we could carry on from where we left off.

On reflection, this was maybe a good thing. Text and Email Me is a much more confident version of Me than Real Life Me, and I’m sure if we had met again the following night or soon after then an enormous case of nerves would have kicked in and I would have fucked it up. But as it was, we could chat happily and easily and start getting to know each other. Whenever shifts and other activities permitted of course, which on Tuesday in particular meant I spent an unprofessional amount of time texting in the office, but luckily I was on my own that day so I could get away with it. And it has thrown my (admittedly not very regular) sleep patterns aswell; when a text comes through while she is on a shift break at 3am it’s hard to ignore and not start chatting.

Anyway, we arranged to meet on Thursday – she was childfree and on days, I pre-wrote my FriFic that I usually write on Thursday a day early – and we planned to go to the theatre near where she lives. I got the tickets and we met in the pub for a quick meal and drink before the show. Me being me I was there a bit early of course, and I admit a few nerves did start to grow. Especially when I got a text about five minutes after she was due to arrive, which I naturally assumed would be her saying she had changed her mind, but as it happens it was the friend who had originally set me up with Kelly wishing me luck. Yes, I had told her how her plans hadn’t worked but had also worked out beautifully.

Fiona walked into the pub moments later, and when I saw her enormous smile as she spotted me, all those nerves vanished. I knew she was as excited to see me as I was to see her, and when we hugged and cheek-kissed hello (we still hadn’t properly kissed at this point) she whispered that she had missed me. Our hug lingered, and when it broke and we sat at the table, our hands didn’t quite manage to part.

I won’t bore you with the conversations, although it turned out she is a massive fan of the films of Woody Allen too, although she says Annie Hall is his finest (it isn’t, it’s Play It Again Sam.) At which point we called up IMDB on the phone and went through them one by one giving marks and comparing notes; Zelig is an under-rated masterpiece, later works like Deconstructing Harry are not given their true respect, Bananas isn’t as funny as it thinks it is. All of which meant that when she suddenly said “shit, the play, what’s the time?” it was half eight and we’d missed the start and probably the start of the interval too. So I went to the bar, got another round in and we stayed in the pub instead. And talked so naturally and relaxedly that I completely forgot to be my normal nervous self. Is this because we are such a good match (I don’t think I know anyone else who likes both S Club 7 and Aphex Twin as passionately as I do) that I don’t get nervous? Was it because I am generally in a better place mentally and emotionally than I have been for a while (with the odd exception, last week being an example)? Or was it because we’d gone through the early stages already by text? Who knows. But the evening flashed past in what seemed like minutes.

At closing time we walked back to hers, just round the corner. And as we went indoors, as the door closed we were kissing. No build up, no thinking “this is the moment, make your move”, it was more like a second was cut out of the live feed of life, and the scene jumped from the door closing to our lips meeting.

Being a discreet English Gentleman I will also skip the finer detail of the rest of the evening and night, but we did eventually have the coffee (tea in my case) that we had theoretically gone back to hers for.

You know the next morning, while she was on the phone to her daughter I was in the kitchen posting on my phone. Then a quick breakfast, go and find my clothes from the lounge, then head off home to get ready for work.

We’re due to meet up again on Monday to see a band, which is in a pub so at least we won’t miss it this time. But even if we did, well that would be fine if it meant more time with Fiona.

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