When I got out of the shower in the morning (trying to give myself a bit of a chance to sleep after the exhaustion of past days), I found myself quickly pulled into a Facebook conversation with the Young Dutchman, who invited me to come join him at the Winter Wonderland festival at Hyde Park. I would have to be skipping another party to go see him, but luckily for the Young Dutchman, he's a bigger draw.
The bus took forever to get me there, but finally I arrived, joined the Young Dutchman and his friend Jesse (who I vaguely remembered meeting before), and gave the Young Dutchman my gloves, as his hands were cold. As I laughingly explained to the Young Dutchman later, I often feel like we not only have a "mi casa es su casa" kind of relationship, but also a "what's mine is yours" relationship, so since I wasn't feeling cold, I was happy to give them up. And I know the Young Dutchman would do the same for me. It's good to have close friends like that.
So we spent several hours wandering the fair grounds, just bumping along as we navigated the masses of people, talking about life and just random things in general. I found the Young Dutchman frequently had an arm around me, holding me close, as he guided me through the crowds, and later held my umbrella for me when it rained. He's not normally so physically affectionate with me, but I think it was the effect of a long delay without seeing each other, he just wanted to be as near me as possible. And I also think he was probably cold, and cuddling up with me kept him warm!
We passed a roller-coaster that looked like a lot of fun, fast without being too scary. It was called "The Euro", which of course made us laugh due to the implications of recent economic events. (The consensus among my friends seems to be that David Cameron was right to veto the plan, although it certainly has causes quite a ruckus. As Jesse pointed out, "Once again, Germany is taking over Europe. Although this time it's a financial war instead of an actual one with guns.") So we got ourselves 6 tokens, the price of the ride, and went for a spin. It had a few drops that absolutely made my stomach flip, so I was looking forward to the ride being over, yet when it was I was incredibly disappointed it was over so fast!
We then went and got some pork sandwiches (love fairground food!) and then sat around for a bit talking about lawyers we knew. Just a good, interesting conversation, and I was enjoying spending time with the Young Dutchman.
As it grew dark, we found ourselves in a debate about what to do next. The Young Dutchman really needed a pair of his own gloves and so wanted to go shopping, while I had already skipped two hours of a house party that I was supposed to go to. Hence we agreed that I would go to the house party, while the Young Dutchman would go shopping, and we would re-convene at a church carol service we were all supposed to go to that evening. Hence, with hugs we parted ways, I left my gloves with him, and we agreed we would see each other again in a few hours.
I arrived at the house of my friend Siobhan, where coming in from the cold I found a party in full swing. At first I managed to chat with Siobhan for a bit, and then got stuck talking to the guy I went out on a painfully bad date with last year. I'm sorry to report that his conversation has not improved much with time. Hence, it was with relief that I greeted the Ultimate Tory Boy when he walked in the door, as his company was some that I much preferred. I managed to escape with him over to the cheese table, where we talked a bit about dating and relationships. He was telling me that he's been casually seeing someone for a bit, but he wasn't getting to serious about it at the moment. He confessed to me that as confident as he seems about other things in life, he's actually tremendously insecure when it comes to women (I found this surprising), and hence will only make a move when he's absolutely sure that his attentions will be reciprocated. He therefore only got together with the girl he's currently seeing when, while posing for a photo, she suggestively slipped her hand under his jacket and started rubbing his back, making it very clear that she was interested in him. I was surprised that such an otherwise confident-seeming guy would need a girl to be so forward, but it was an interesting bit of insight (that would come into play later on in the evening).
At 6 PM, I realised I needed to get going if I was going to make it to the church carol service, and the Ultimate Tory Boy had been the only person I was interested in chatting to at the party anyway. So I put on my coat and said my good-byes, and headed out in the direction where my iPhone told me I would find the church.
Except when I arrived, there was no sign of the church whatsoever! I circled the block twice, trying to figure out what was going on, and desperately trying to get a signal on my iPhone. At last, after 20 minutes, I got a decent signal and had the sense to look up the website of the church itself. Then plugged in that postcode, and discovered that my iPhone had entirely mis-led me, and the church was actually a good five blocks away.
With time running out before the service was due to start at 7 PM, I took off in a mad dash, and arrived at the top of the square, with the church in the middle, precisely at 6:58 PM. Yet as I stood at the top of the square, it was obvious that the entrance to the church was on one side of the square or the other, but which side? Taking a guess, I went right. And wouldn't it be just my luck to turn out to be wrong? I almost began to wonder if this was a sign from God that I wasn't meant to go to the church service this evening. Yet I dashed all of the way around the other side of the square, and came up the front steps of the church all sweaty as the first hymn was already beginning. I grabbed a candle and an order of service from the staff and desperately looked for a free seat, finding one a few rows up on the end. I was then incredibly grateful and surprised when I looked down the row, and saw my friend Lotte at the other end! Against all odds, I'd just by chance arrived in the exact right place. Definitely a lesson to never trust my iPhone again, however!
The service was lovely, with real candles, although sitting at the end of the pew, I was in the line of a draft, which caused my candle to burn down a lot faster than other people's. I actually had to move the paper hand-guard down twice to avoid having it all burst into flame, and I got towards the end of the service wondering if I was going to make it. (And since the lights were so low in the church, one really needed one's candle to read the lyrics to the hymns, as there was no other light). Yet I just managed to make it, managing to sing "Hark the Herald Angels Sing" just before I ran out of candle to burn.
Once the service was over, I noticed that Lotte had already departed to run back to the flat to prepare for all of the guests, but her Dutch flatmate Mike (who I had met once previously) was still there. So I greeted him, he seemed to remember me, although caught me off-guard with three kisses on my cheek instead of the usual two. Ah, those crazy continental Europeans!
As we departed the church, it started to rain heavily, but I'd learned the lessons of last Thursday, and had this time brought an umbrella. I found myself falling into conversation with a guy who I'd noticed in the church, mostly because it looked like he'd put on an Oxford scarf when exiting the service. Although I'm sure other people would think he caught my attention for other reasons, as it turned out that he was a professional rugby player who played for the Newcastle Falcons. We had a rather interesting chat about how tough the life of professional rugby was, as he had to be playing games all throughout the holiday season, how he was off in France playing games next week, and how he wouldn't be able to drink until May, because he was in training. Yikes, what a life!
We arrived at the party, where I found myself talking to lots of random people, although mostly the Young Dutchman and Jesse, who I was glad to see when they arrived. I eventually found myself spending quite a bit of time chatting with Jesse and a tall South African who I had met once before. It was funny, as the two of them are both well over six-feet tall, and they were bonding about being the tall guys in life, and how many advantages it confers, from instant authority to getting girls. It was funny, as it was the first time I'd ever heard tall guys so clearly state the advantages of being tall. I'll have to ask my 6'10" tall father about that...
As we were chatting the Young Scotsman arrived, who I hadn't seen in quite some time, and so I was very happy to see him. You might remember I mentioned him at the Club Crawl back in October. We chatted and caught up for a bit, as he asked me about mutual acquaintances of ours, and I mentioned that I'd met the Wild Welshman's new girlfriend on Monday. The Young Scotsman then surprised me by saying, "Oh, and I'm sure he's batting below his pay-grade, as per usual". I had to laugh at that, and then realised he was right, that I'd been surprised upon meeting the girl, well... I'd kind of figured if he wasn't going to go for me, this girl would be obviously more attractive or clever than I am, but she was actually rather plain and didn't have much to say. Perhaps she was just nervous, and I only met her on a Monday after work. But it does seem to say something about the Wild Welshman and the types he goes for..
The Young Scotsman then went outside for a smoke (what a disgusting habit!) and so I lapsed into conversation with the Young Dutchman. He gave me back my gloves, after having so obviously put them carefully aside (and I'd been worried that he would lose them), that I couldn't help but laugh and exclaim out loud, "Oh, I love you!" Of course we always say that to each other, but I wonder what the people around us thought when he replied, "Me too!" We're silly and cute that way...
The Young Scotsman came back in to find me, and told me, "You know you don't have to smoke to come outside..." and so after a bit, I went out and joined him. (Even though I hate the habit). He asked me what men at the party I fancied, and to be honest, I realised that nobody truly captured my attention. All of the guys were either attached, too young, too short, or just not the types I could ever feel attracted to. And as he was pressing me to find a guy I liked, I realised the reason I was having so much trouble is that I was comparing them all to the Young Scotsman himself. He's cute, he's attracted to me, he's smart and funny, I've known him for ages and know just what kind of man he is. Sure, he's far too young for me and he smokes, but I guess that shows you what kind of options there were at the party...
It was cold out, so I made my way back inside and warmed up by hugging the Young Dutchman for a while, but eventually left him to speak Dutch to all the other Dutch people there and perhaps chat up some girls. And the Young Scotsman came back inside, so I went to talk to him.
Now I'm not exactly sure what to say about what happened next. The Young Scotsman and I had been flirting all evening, and he said something to me about being a tease. Which I had to admit was true. Goodness knows I love the attention, as what girl doesn't love knowing she is desired? But because I'm such a "good girl" it never goes anywhere, and I spend a lot of nights going home alone. And the Young Scotsman whispered to me, "You're killing me here!" implying that all of the tantalizing teasing was getting to be a bit much.
And you know what? It suddenly dawned on me that I had no idea why I was holding out on him. He's funny, he's cute, and he adores me. Sure, he smokes, and there's no way I would ever date a guy who smokes, but who says everything has to be all or nothing, for forever or not at all? I like him, and he likes me. Why do we need to make it so complicated?
And so I walked towards the empty kitchen, he followed me, and once we were alone no words were needed. I can't remember who made the first move, but we just went for it. He kissed me passionately, had his hands all over me, and it was getting pretty hot and heavy pretty quickly. Yet (such a girl thing), I was terrified that as he ran his hands over my bum that he would realise I was wearing Spanx. So I pulled away before too much could happen (and although we were alone in the kitchen, anybody could have walked around the corner at any moment and spotted us). I therefore cut things short and slipped out before anybody could see us, and returned to the party while he stayed behind so we weren't seen together. I must really not have been missed, as I found myself having to make polite conversation to tons of guys as soon as I returned to the party, who seemed quite into me, even as I wasn't paying much attention to them. My head was still spinning from what had just happened in the kitchen.
We both stayed and chatted at the party for a bit longer (in a bizarre turn, our hostess had already gone to bed with a guy at the party, which was made particularly weird by the fact that this guy was the ultimate dork, and our hostess is a beautiful Dutch blonde who could really have her pick of almost any guy there). Finally everyone seemed to be making a move to head home, so I walked out with the Young Dutchman, a ton of girls, and the Young Scotsman. We said our goodbyes to the Young Dutchman and the bunch of girls, who all got into a car, and the Young Scotsman and I walked further, towards a main road to find a cab. I think I'd originally assumed that I would get in the cab and the Young Scotsman would get home...somehow. Yet when a cab finally appeared (not many were on the streets), I didn't want to leave him. So in a fit of impulsiveness I just pulled the Young Scotsman into the cab with me. I told him he'd have to be understanding about the mess at my place (I doubt it's ever been quite such a tip), but he was sweet about it, and so we went back to mine.
Once there, we just hung out on my couch for a little while, listening to music, and I did a little back-and-forth exchange with the Young Dutchman on FB to confirm that we were both home safely. The Young Scotsman laughed a bit at this, as I think it was beginning to occur to him quite how close the Young Dutchman and I are. And then the Young Scotsman pulled me into his arms, and that was enough of playing with the computer.
I know there are supposed to be a million reasons that you shouldn't take a boy home with you at the end of a party, because you're only supposed to be in long-term relationships and all that jazz. But right then, lying across his lap and looking up at him as he gazed down at me with such sweet affection, that was the last thing I was worried about.
Now due to the amount of alcohol he'd consumed and his unfortunate smoking habit, he wasn't really "up for it", if you catch my drift. But actually that made things even more lovely, as I didn't have to worry about things going too far (as despite having just taken a boy home, I'm still not one for one-night stands), and there was no pressure to do anything. In the end, he really just seemed to enjoy holding me tight, kissing me and cuddling with me all night long.
We stayed awake all night long, as though we could hold back encroaching morning light, just teasing, talking, laughing and enjoying each other. It's funny, as I'd realised that despite our attraction to each other, we'd never been close friends, but as we talked I found myself wondering why not. Lying with my head on his chest (oh, and what a beautiful chest it was!), I discovered that he had thoughtful, informed opinions on politics, news, and numerous other issues, and was just interesting and fascinating to talk to.
I really, honestly wish we could have just stayed in bed forever. When the sun rose, we just buried ourselves beneath the covers, as though we might just stay in our own little world and never come out. The real world brings with it reality, and we were just enjoying being where we were. Still, when it was past noon, we had to get up. (Yes, it was Monday morning and I was in total denial about having a real job).
So we showered and went for a terrible breakfast at a cafe nearby my flat. I'd never been there before and the food was really hideous. But he'd wanted to go to a greasy spoon, so it fit the bill perfectly. We stayed and chatted for hours more, even as he was obviously tripping over himself with exhaustion (as I said, we hadn't slept), but we both apparently didn't want things to end quite yet.
Finally however, I had to get back to work (it was an incredible stroke of good fortune that I'd managed to spend nearly the entire day not doing any work) and he needed to go home and get some sleep. So we kissed outside on the kerb, sweetly enjoying the last good-bye.
And the thing is, neither of us really knows what happens now. I think we have a pretty perfect understanding (as much as I like him, he smokes which is a BIG no-no for me, and he's younger and just in a different place in life), in that this is not a potential relationship. I think he was a bit surprised when I actually stated that I wanted to keep this quiet, telling me, "Well now it's been said, but of course it goes without saying." And yet, it wasn't some silly or embarrassing one-night thing either. We each serve as the Chairmen of our respective clubs Younger Member's Committees, so we're going to be running into each other a lot in an official capacity. And we still like each other. I guess we'll just have to see what the future brings. "Que sera, sera."
But what a wonderful night.
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