Morocco

So I come home today, turn the key in the lock as usual and pick up the post lying on the mat. I walk into the kitchen, switch on the heating, turn on the puter, go to the loo. Back to the post. Have a look; junk, junk, bill, wait a minute what's this? Postcard. Marrakesh. Fuck. Turn it over. Yep it's from M. Shit. Fuck. What does he want????

I got it together with M last spring during a trip to Morocco. Well actually it wasn't until we were back in England that we actually got it on. A completely unsuitable man in every way. Older, way older, for a start. Unreliable. Not thoughtful. Hugging him was lke cuddling an ironing board. But my god the sex. The things he did to me. Fucking hell. And my god we used to laugh and laugh. It was fantastic.

Until after a few months of fucking without committment he went and met someone else.

I was gutted. I knew nothing would come of it for many different reasons. But it still hurt. It always does when you've slept with someone.

What hurt most was that after we'd 'broken up' I really wanted to be friends. People always say that, but this time I meant it. We'd started as friends and had a fling. My heart wasn't broken. I'm a grown up. It would have been nice to keep in touch. But he cut all contact. Until now.

The last line says " I lost your number. Text me"

What do I do? especially as I've got D now? (Who pales into insignificance in the bedroom in comparison.) but I know he cares for me, and is reliable and sweet. Would I be able to resist M if I knew he wanted it?

FUCK.FUCK FUCK

Cx