Fail Girl- The Sequel.

I swear, swear X is secretly reading my posts. After my last post about being disappointed because we were supposed to meet but didn’t, he did it again.

I’ve been “counseled” by many good friends to move on and just tell him to fuck off in general. I said I’ll try. Obviously I’m not trying hard enough.

As disappointed as I was, I still had to get on with life and put on my game face. So imagine my surprise when my phone rang on Thursday afternoon while I was having lunch with a doctor and a few others.

*phone rings*
I turn it around (put it face down because I kept receiving messages and didn’t want to appear rude by replying) and see “X” flashing on my screen.

*heart skips a beat*
Couldn’t resist because I was curious why he was calling me in the middle of the day. Politely excused myself and hid in a corner to answer the call.

*face muscles betray me by lighting up at the mere sound of his voice*
Started rattling about his day so far even though I didn’t ask shit. Then asked me out for dinner.

In my mind, remembering what my friends said about not being available every single time he asks me out. Somewhere, in the deep recesses of my brain, their voices collectively chant “Say no say no say no!”.

I said yes. Immediately. Without a moment of hesitation. Maybe I even said yes before he completed his sentence. Could imagine all my friends face-palming/ jeering at me. Pushed them all away.

He bought me dinner. Refused my money (again). Didn’t allow me to sign up for his classes (my brows must have lifted too high with glee when I found out that there are nude male models involved in the drawing classes which he conducts) because he says I’m joining for all the wrong reasons. I may be into him, but I’m not above looking at other men. Especially those buck naked. Hey, you watch porn right? They’re not wearing a stitch of clothing too. Later, for a very brief moment, our hands brushed. Like majorly brushed. Oh lord I sound like such a loser. Am I a nun or what? Fancy getting so excited over brushed hands. Imagine if I had actual physical contact with him. Might go into cardiac arrest or something.

And that’s all we did. Have dinner. And I actually made it into such an event, dedicating an entire post about it. Imagine if I ever got it together with this guy. Might take out a full-page ad in all the national papers then.

My friends must be foaming at their mouths now.



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