After the half term week being incredibly boring and full of cancellations of nights out (due to my own illness might I add) I wasn't expecting Saturday as my recovery night to be up to much. Gwen was still an underager (and how i loved encouraging her drunken antics) and the risk of getting ID'd was quite high. Drinking at mine beforehand fuelled the laughing and joking that continued all night. Everywhere we went, Gwen attracted choruses of "Look at her boobs" "Wey aye, boobs oot!" and simply "BOOBIES". The joke didn't get old. Well, for me that is, I think she was beginning to wish she had covered up that night: "FUCK OFF, its getting old now, how many times do i have to hear this!"
"Just a few more Gwen, its your own fault, for having such wonderful mammory glands."

As we were going to Newcastle, obviously I was going to ask Anthony if he was out. Although I didn't count on it happening, I tried and tried. As it happened, so did he. Hours of persuading his friend paid off and when i got a text telling me they were on their way, I got a rush of happiness and excitment and nerves. It had been so long since i'd seen him, too long.

V.I.P. treatment, no queuing or cost later ;) ...Gwen and I hit the bar. It was sex on the beach, the classy choice.
I can't describe how I felt, as I have never really felt it before. Knowing I was going to see him was so relieving and made me feel so happy but at the same time I was scared that I wasn't good enough in comparison to most of the girls I had seen that night. Downing my cocktail with my usual dose of dutch courage, my eyes searched the dancefloor. I spotted a tall man, who I was sure was his friend. Sure enough, a stone's throw away, there was Anthony. I don't know why but when I saw him, I hid behind Gwen. "He's there!"
"Go and see him then!"
"Erm...wait a bit, see if he notices me."
Well, he didn't and I decided to go and poke him in the back. Sigh. I kept doing it and he wasn't turning round, which uneased me slightly, so Gwen, obviously sticking up for me, slapped him across the back of the head. Thats more like it.
He was smaller than I remembered, and as Gwen kindly put it "He look git small him! Is it me, or is he small? *small hand movement*" Smaller or not, he was still as cute as I remembered. I felt too shy to look him in the eyes at first: another classic sign that I 'have it bad'.
Dancing, drinking and chatting made Gwen's bladder weak and ofcourse I had to accompany her. Even though I didn't want to. After returning from the toilet I had texts telling me to go outside and meet him. Gwen really wanted to stay, but we got her round to leaving early. I just wanted to spend as much time as possible with him.

Waiting in the taxi queue spelled mischief and the pair got up to their usual antics. Winding me and Gwen up, and using their word "Pig" which she didn't understand was only a joke and got quite offended! Anthony's friend also tricked her into stealing a man's water bottle who was standing infront of us. She did, and then he enjoyed telling him "She's jsut nicked your bottle mate." Also, Gwen pointing out a very sinister character who was standing behind me, slick black hair and an edgy face, triggered Anthoy's usual sarcastic witty type of comment "What, I like him, you're laughing just because he looks like a Bond villan. Tut."

The taxi was more or less the same, with them winding us up. When Anthony's friend left without chipping in, the taxi driver offered to "elbow him in the head till (he) got some money." Happens all the time apparantly. Anthony got hold of my hand and I persuaded him to come to Gwen's house for a bit. If im honest, I had hoped that she would have left us alone for a bit, but she didn't. So, on Gwens comfy couch, I put my head on his shoulder and we sat, well, I sat and listened to Gwen bullying him, convinced he looked 17. He held my hand and was stroking my arm, and I just wanted to sit there the whole night long. Cliched, but I felt complete, like I had been longing for this moment so long, and it was finally here. Having him so close to me made me realise that i've never felt this way about anyone else before. With him, it feels genuine. He doesn't try to get more than he should out of me, phoning me at ridiculous o'clock expecting sex, he doesn't touch me anywhere that he shouldn't (although, he does have permission). In other words, he isn't how a lot of men are with me. He has respect for me. I like him so much, I just wish things could esculate and something could happen bewteen us.
He booked a taxi for me, and although he lived a five minute walking journey from Gwens, came in the taxi with me. He held my hand again and I moved closer to him, putting my head near his shoulder and kissed him. Unlike the last steamed up more hightened taxi journey, this time I could tell that we were both disappointed that the night had to end there, and that still, we had no time alone. Even thinking of how he kissed me that night makes me smile. One last kiss and I was home, waving him goodbye. Home and happy that i'd seen him, but sad how we have to go our seperate ways once again.

The following night I received a text "Why aren't you kissing me again now? Why?"
I can understand it may seem so lah-de-dah and 'get on with it' but it's so hard to go on knowing you can't be next to the one person who you care about and think of most of the time, everyday.

Quite a lot has changed since the "delete my number" episode. I don't know why I got so depressed about it, surely I should've known it wasn't really the end. I did delete his number, and yes, he DID ring me again. Only, I had passed out after lots of alcohol and smoking some dope. Thankfully I had fell asleep, god knows what would have happened if I had answered in my state.
Probably still in a daze off the previous nights episodes, I text him apologising for not answering as I was fucked. We started talking and he said there was to be a party at a mutual friends house that night. Later on that night, I decided it sounded good so I waiting for the phonecall, and, looking rougher than a badger's arse, I got into a taxi which surprisingly was only me and him. The others were to meet us there.
The flat was a complete tip! Dirty dishes, stale food, toilet seats, blocked toilets, clothes, you name it. I didn't know how to act, us two on our own, and after THAT text. Didn't take that long for us to be sitting on the settee and his friend walking in, on his own: everyone decided they were not party people on this occassion. When he went in the shower, we were sitting on the couch and he told me about the text, that he "didn't want it to seem that thats how it was". I just sat and listened and said "I know". Don't know why I didn't question it.
All night he was saying things how I can be trusted after they told me of a sexual experience they shared with some "slag" (wish I had been spared the details) and how I was one of his best friends and how he wouldn't let anyone hurt me. Lots of things like this. Even at one point joking on how we were married. Maybe he was buttering me up (pardon the pun) for what he had in mind that night.
Things happened again, foolishly. This time however, he started to ask me things like how many people I had slept with etc. It was different between us, but the circumstances still hadnt changed. I was still stupid for falling for it.