Saturday, 11 September 2010

Words, believed or otherwise

I've known him a while but it's been ages since we've seen each other. We skirt around different edges of a group of friends. It's great to see him. He is attractive, cheeky, and so very easy to talk to.

It is still early-ish and no-one is drunk yet. Well, apart from the guy who's been asleep at the table after peaking way, way too early in the evening.

We talk about life and love and all that stuff, and he tells me I am feisty, clever and sexy. I am surprised.

We all carry on to another pub and a band, and still we only really talk to each other. He flirts, in front of our friends. I try to dismiss his chatter as affable sport. He apologises for flirting, and continues nonetheless.He tells me 'you've got me'. I don't know how to respond. I am so very curious.

He is a musician whose songs were part of my teens and twenties. He's bohemian and creative. We go home and he plays the guitar bought for an ex, a present returned.

I like his mind, I like his hands.

His words keep coming. Words of attraction, connection and flattery. I want to believe him. I want to be all those things he tells me I am. 

I am not sure I believe him. Perhaps I am some of these things?

If he is telling the truth, it was passionate and dangerous territory. If he is spinning me a line, he is a convincing bad boy and I have enjoyed his game.

Either way, I was tempted and he is not mine.

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