… like a moth to a flame.

 For once the all-day blackout wasn’t the cause of a woefully inapt utility cartel whose infamy for power shedding was even cause for reporting on CNN but my idiot next door neighbour. Deciding to chainsaw a row of trees without thinking one of them might actually fall onto the power line running right in the line of sight – he merrily set himself up for a morning of frustration – and my compounded irk. No hot water to shower, not kettle to boil water for coffee and no outlet for my laptop or frustration.

Having reorganised my study, clipped articles of interest from every edition of a certain pale pink weekend paper going back a few months and even caught up on filing I managed to exhaust my imagination to create more work to keep myself busy. And since it hadn’t stopped the downpour that has been on and off these past few days the perfect way to kill time would be to curl up back in bed with a tome of modern architecture I received from a potentially new boss for the holidays.

Dozing off after just a few paragraphs, not because the book was uninteresting but because I really was tired, I managed a few hours of leisurely dozing on and off throughout the afternoon. But when it became apparent that the growling was my stomach rather than my Great Dane I realised that food would be a great way to ease in the approaching dusk. And remembering that I had switched my phone off to conserve an already low battery I reached out to the world and found 5-messages waiting for me.

Of the many messages, the two that stood out were from a friend confirming lunch that Friday at the club and the other was from the Bradley Cooper-esq guy. We had kinda lost contact over the festive holiday period since my best mate was home and he was away at the Crags with family. Sure we had exchanged a few calls here and there but since being back his question still hung like a draw-bridge over an ever widening abyss of silence and fear. Silence in not asking for my answer and the fear of not knowing what to say.

In saying yes to dinner I had inadvertently agreed to a date with destiny. Mindful of a past experience I nipped the bud at the beginning of the dinner before the expectation of dessert wasn’t the choc chip brownie and ice cream but me in his bed in the early hours of the morning. But even my best intentions fall short of determination and I managed to find myself the recipient of the best sex I’ve had in a long, long time. But as the darkness turned to a curtained dawn the morning got better and better. As did the sex.

According to certain scientists whenever a woman, or a Streisand ticket carrying friend of Dorothy, has sex their body produces a chemical which causes her or him to emotionally attach. This chemical can also account for the series of terrifying questions that involuntarily pop into our mind after just one casual tryst. Questions like: ‘does he like me?’; ‘will he call again?’ and the classic ‘where is this all going?’ I couldn’t help but wonder when it comes to men – even when we try to keep it light – how do we wind up in the dark?

As a way to keep myself distracted and my hands busy not dialling his number, I agreed to drinks and dinner with a couple of friends that I’d known for forever but seldom see. As a way to make up an equal table reservation they invited a mutual friend. Realising that the last time I went out to dinner and this was the arrangement there was a power failure we ended up dancing the night away and moving in together. Albeit this guy was straight I must admit that there was a point where I wished it was a date. For years I had believed the gossip about him. I found him smart, sexy and deeply sarcastic. We may have been sitting in the dark but for the first time I saw him in a different light.

It didn’t bother me that the Bradley Cooper-esq guy didn’t call the next day, or the day after that but a week later when we did eventually meet up things seemed to have returned to the ‘friendship’ that I had wanted. Maybe he was waiting for me to call … maybe not … but either way I prefer things the way they are. After all he doesn’t want a relationship and I don’t think I can be trusted with one just yet. But in the meanwhile I have drinks on Friday with a friend, a box of candles to keep the shadows at bay and the promise that pretty soon I’m going to find the right guy for the darkness. After all how long can our utilities company get it wrong?


One Response to “… like a moth to a flame.”

  1. Thomas Wolf Says:

    This new website is AWESOME!!

    I like the simplicity of it all and the elegance of white on black is always delicious…

    And of course the writing is incredible!

    I await more entries to read!

    P.S. Still the best blog ever!

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