If I said I'd start at the begining, you'd probably think that I'd had something stupidly awful happen to me and that I wanted to start the whole thing off by explaining in dramatic and gory detail about it. Yes?
Well, Yes and No.
For the purpose of this though, I will start at the begining. The begining of the end, of a very complicated relationship. Which in short, is that of the relationship between A Man... and his Dog. (No, I'm only kidding.) Between A Man and A Woman.
No one is good in relationships. Agreed? Well for me not being good, is something I seem to know too well. Although I've never felt, at the time of the whole relationship fiasco, that things are actually going bad. But that's how they seem to end up!
Confused? Me too.
Well here we go.
I remember it all so clearly. The party, the people, the drink, the music... Him. Yes, I deffinately remember him. Stood over the other side of the room dressed up as some swarve Bond style character. Swarve I spose isn't really the correct word, seen as what he was actually wearing was a rather large dinner jacket, (that he obviously stole off his dad 10 minutes before leaving) and a black chain. To remember this in such detail must still, somewhere mean something.
I'd gone to the party with my girls. A friend's 21st Birthday Bash at a local pub's skittle ally. Yes, it is indeed very classy and a place to pick up boys! Armed with vodka stashed in Pepsi Bottles and Cola in Fanta ones, we were all set for a pretty great night! (Because who really can afford a lot of decent drink on a students income.) Us girls were all dolled up in super 80s styles. The theme for the party being 80s and 90s film, game and tv. And being us, we went as 1980s Flash Dancers. Thrilling I know!
Whether or not it was the fluroescent yellow top I was wearing, which caught his eye, I shall never know. But the smile and laugh captured me and from then on I was sold. Sold to be a slave to love. Gutted. Ridiculously fallen for him. Damn It.