Twenty-Eight Days and Counting (When "Romeo and Juliet" Met)

It is hard to believe that it would take an alcoholic less than 28 days to help me realise that I could feel and experience love. 

It was the evening of the 6th of December 2011 and some persistent voice was telling me to get off the train and to drag myself into the local pub on the corner.  So without any further debate with myself, I got off the train.

I am not much of a drinker, but there I was hanging out in the pub chatting to a friend when next best thing I hear a voice from across the room say, "I know you".  Yes, right, here in a pub and you know me, what a pick-up line I think to myself.  I give the bloke a stare and before I can say anything he says "You were at the same school as me".  Oh God! he just does not stop – another pick-up line.  What is he trying to achieve, when I never even attended any co-head schools, so he is clearly off his trolley.  Then without giving up, trying to get my attention, he says "you are from the same place I use to live".  Now I am all ears, because he is right this time.

So I ask him his name and as soon as he said it I recognised him.  Here was the man I had once had a crush on when I was about 17/18.  He of course had no clue how I felt about him, because I never thought I fitted into his league.  Little did I know, but would find out a while later, that assumption can ruin many a good relationship.

So there we were, catching up like two old friends, talking, and laughing and time was pushing on and I needed to either catch the last train home or get a taxi.  I proceeded to call a taxi and he then insisted that he would give me a lift home.

I was not too comfortable with this arrangement as here he was, a married man picking up a single woman, in a pub and having her leave with him.  This is not going to look good.  But with his persistence, I eventually agreed that he dropped me at home.

I don't live too far from the pub so in no time we were parked outside my door and I was still feeling very uncomfortable sitting with a married man who I once had a major crush on.  And it seemed like those feelings were starting to surface.

We chattered a little longer and he even suggested that perhaps we went for coffee.  I said it was not a good idea and that he should rather go home to his family.

He then asked if he could get a hug.

He got out of the car to open the door for me and proceeded to put his arms round me for a hug.  I was trying my best to keep a space between us but how does one give someone a hug without holding onto each other, so I reciprocated.  It was just a hug even though he thought he could steal a kiss as well.  I draw the line when it comes to married men.  Don't think of crossing it, you are going to get nowhere.  The rules I make for myself.

Anyway we said our good-byes and I went in doors.

To be continued…...