Say It With Pissy Flowers
I occasionally have to travel around the country for work, but as I'm a freelancer, quite often have to sort accommodation myself.

Last month I found myself having to move to a south-western city I'd never been to before, and knew no-one there. I started looking at short-term let flats: not an option. Hotels? Too expensive. All I could afford was a single room in a fleapit guesthouse, which I was potentially going to be calling 'home' for the next month. I was desperately trying to find a house-share, but no-one wanted a lodger for only one month. Until I got in contact with C.

She was advertising a room for rent for 6-months, but I figured I'd explain my situation and see if she was interested. I sent her an e-mail and a picture, she sent one back - she was absolutely stunning. I met her one evening to see if we got on, and was over the moon that she was okay with me moving in. She even laughed at my jokes, and didn't seemed to mind that I was quite drunk when she arrived (well, she had arrived an hour and a half late).

I moved in. As fantastic as she was, she'd told me she'd very recently ended a long-term relationship and was still raw about it - I decided early on that it wouldn't be right to try anything on, particularly since if she wasn't interested, she'd probably feel a bit uncomfortable for the rest of my stay. And frankly, she was WAY out of my league.

Her house was huge and absolutely stunning, the rent reasonable, she gave me a lift to work almost every day, and we'd cook for each other. Almost every evening we'd sit, talk, discuss our disastrous love lives and put the world to rights. After a week I knew more of her secrets than I did of my closest friends, and she kept me company for all of what would have otherwise been a miserable stay in a tatty guesthouse.

It maybe wasn't much, but she'd really taken a chance on me - before I moved in she had never met me sober, took my word I could afford to pay her (she didn't even take any money from me until about 5 days in) and was one of the most genuine people I've met.

***EPILOGUE***

Days before my job was due to finish, she persuaded me to stay on an extra couple of days so that we could have a night on the town. Sounded good - I could have a day of wandering around not having to be at work, and I'd get to spend a little more time with her.

We had an awesome night - a lot of drinking, dancing, laughing. I think it was clear there was a mutual attraction (it may have been the booze). We stayed up talking until about 3, then went to our separate bedrooms, me cursing that I should said how I felt.

The next morning I had to leave. In the first week with her, she'd mentioned her favourite flowers - I'd secretly bought some and left them in the wardrobe of my now empty room, with a card saying thanks, and that I'd miss her.

I woke her up. We were both hungover and sad to be saying goodbye, and I was running late for a train, so after a hug I left. She had agreed to come and visit, and I said that I'd call her that evening.

On my way to the station, I sent her a text message, saying I'd "drunk too much last night and had a bit of an accident, and she might want to clean up the wardrobe" - expecting her to rush upstairs in a panic, see the flowers, and think that I was pretty fantastic. She hadn't even dressed for work when I left, so was expecting a reply of "Ha ha, thanks" in the next few minutes... but nothing.

After an hour, I started to worry - and then OH GOD! I hadn't considered that she was a total neat freak... if she arrived at work and THEN saw the message, she'd spend all day going MENTAL. Oops. Why couldn't I just send a normal message?!!! I'm a twat. I sent one explaining that I was joking. Still nothing.

From sending the message at 9am, I didn't hear from her until 11pm. She called, said "thanks for the flowers... I thought you'd pissed in the wardrobe." She'd believed the first message. The second hadn't changed that. Over the course of the day, I think her feelings for me might have changed.

I haven't heard from her since, despite trying, which is a real shame.


I should have just pissed in the wardrobe.



Length? About 300 miles now.
(Sloppy Giuseppe, Mon 6 Oct 2008, 18:05, 2 replies)

Well...
To be fair there is only so much you can know about another person in a month.
(powervator and NONE SHALL PASS, Mon 6 Oct 2008, 20:34, closed)

Call her, dude...
Sounds like this could (still!) go somewhere. Don`t let her disappear from your life.
(Orin delurked to post this gibberish on, Tue 7 Oct 2008, 7:09, closed)