Saturday was date number six with Irish number two. We started out going to see Dallas Buyers Club at a great little cinema that has a bar and sofas.
Bar. Sofas.
Both conducive to snogging.
Even during a movie in which it feels very inappropriate.
When you’re in your thirties.
Then we went for tapas and cocktails at a little hipster place near my flat. What do you know? Irish was busting out all the compliments this time. I’m smart. I’m funny. I’m beautiful. All true stories. Nice that he noticed at last.
He insisted on paying for dinner.
We stumbled back to mine around 2am.
Now, buddies. I am not a girl to take sex lightly. I’d only ever slept with three people before. Always in relationships. Always when I loved them. And we all know where that got me.
Well, I did have some sex with Irish number two. It was fun, and lighthearted. Different.
He stayed over and was very affectionate and sweet. We went for pancakes in the morning.
Of course it makes me think about the ex. And sex with the ex. Irish number two asks about him: what happened, and what the f*** was a banker doing living in Hackney anyway.
But I mostly feel anger.
And that feels ok.
Pizza of Doom 
I do believe you’ve broken down a barrier there missus. Well done you 🙂 xxx
I think you’re right!