The Twitcher is in Eastbourne for the weekend so I definitely won’t see him before my operation on Tuesday.
“Hope you’re not really worrying about next Twitcher date? If he weren’t interested he wouldn’t message everyday,” Lucy texts to reassure me.
“So why no date?” I ask her.
“You just were on a date last week, no?” She says.
“Yes, but no next date arranged yet,” I say.
“That is fine. Don’t fret. If I look at my diary I have hardly a free minute to Christmas. So although there are people I want to (or have to) see, it won’t happen till the New Year. Am sure he will suggest some dates for next week, latest the week after. And that’s not playing games. This is just reality when people have passed the age of thirty and have a lot of obligations,” Lucy says.
“Thank you darling,” I reply.
“And if he doesn’t, well then he is just a bloody idiot! But as I said, the real men (i.e. Actually interesting, successful blah blah blah) just dropped messaging/ emailing/ calling if they didn’t want to see me anymore. So him keeping on messaging shows interest,” Lucy says.
“Thank you. Let’s hope you’re right,” I say.
He continues to send messages everyday. Fingers crossed there will be an actual date soon!
Hopefully Lucy is right. Am going to attempt to see some of own friends and family in the run up to Christmas as well. Am even planning to attend another party tonight where there will be Real Chaps to talk to, can wear a pretty dress and some sparkle. Have to continue to get-self-out-there…
Scars, Tears and Training Bras 