Hmm. So this evening was a bit weird. S came round for beers and DVDs and we had just finished a tasty McDonalds treat and come up to watch The Fly in bed, all cosy and naked and pink, and then Mental Fiona texted him with 'Random, but I can't stop thinking about you. I hope you're not out with Emma. Wish you were here... x'
So S has gone home and I am feeling shaky and like I might be sick.
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