House visits.

Sometimes things don’t go exactly to plan. I went over to A’s house on Sunday, I didn’t mean to but she sounded in a bad way over the phone. I’ve never encountered anyone who gets so upset about breaking up with people. Or at least I’ve never been around for this stage.

I visited her at her house armed with wine, classy crisps, and suitable DVDS – horror films with out any romance in. When I got there she was rather broken looking, it was as if she was a balloon that had had some of its air removed. I also noticed some rather suspicious looking marks on her arms, what is a chap supposed to do when he encounters self-harming?

We ate supper (the pizza I made her before warmed up) in front of Alien with a nice chardonnay and then went to sleep at around midnight. I was on a mattress on the floor; she was in her bed. Later on her cat joined me, he had taken a liking to me so he spent the night purring loudly in my ear.

It’s all very strange, being a grown up. Here I was on the floor of someone’s room on the other side of London from my flat. How had I got here? The path that leads to these situations is convoluted to say the least.

I’m still very enamoured with A, I just don’t know how to deal with this sort of thing. I do witty quips and fun nights out. Also, I have a very real fear I could be drifting like an iceberg into the friendship zone.