I last saw him in June and promised myself then that I would see him again before I leave.

We were going to go for some drinks, but he offered dinner. I was dreading it. What if we wouldn’t have anything to talk about? What if I get angry and start accusing him of breaking up with me? What if…What if…

He was late, of course. That already pissed me off as I hate when people are late. So typical of him as well. He was always late. He was late for my 30th birthday…4 hours!

I was standing on the street, waiting for him, while some dodgy drunken men were trying to hit on me. But, I didn’t let my anger to get hold of me. I was calm when I got into his car. He didn’t say sorry though and, by now, I am used to men apologizing to me because of their lateness.

He took me to a nice Italian place we had never been before. I was grateful he didn’t suggest one of the places we used to go all the time.

‘I need to go to the toilet. Can you order me sea food risotto and a glass of wine?’ I said, getting up from the table and thought that the situation was strangely familiar. I didn’t even have to say what wine I wanted.

We chatted about friends, holidays, my upcoming move and his work.

At one point I noticed a tiny bread crumb on his lips and without thinking I brushed it off with my finger. We started laughing. It was so natural to both of us…

Meeting him for dinner made me realise how relaxed I used to feel around him. After dating for a few months I finally could be myself when sitting with another man at a table, in a public place.

He sent me a message at night: ‘It was so good to see you. I’m not trying to mess it up, but I just wanted you to know that I’ve missed you. If you ever need any help with anything, please let me know.’

I don’t want to go back to him. I don’t have a desire to do so, but the Kid and other men seem quite unimportant now…

I cried a little yesterday….

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