A is in love...no, not with V. Please guys, they are not that type of 'couple'. Over the weekend she a met an older British fellow at a club. Not older as in old, as in 5 years older which is significant but has been done many times before...and sometimes twice that much. They talked. Just talked. For hours. In the club, then at a restaurant, then in a park. They met around 11pm. A got home around 6:30am, enough time for her to have a coffee and a shower and head off to work. They didn't have sex. They didn't even kiss, except briefly upon parting. No tongue. Definitely a first for A. And apparently, it's talking and not sex that's the way to A's heart. That has been suspected a long time since A spends most of her life arguing and kicks arse at public speaking. It's just never been tested. She fell for this guy. Hard. He was funny and sweet and smart and everything A could ever want...plus naturally, hot and kind of a smart arse. All A wanted was to see him again...and sleep with him of course. But fate has other plans. His phone was dead (damn smart phones and their short battery life!) and A drunkenly managed to put the wrong number in her phone (obvious because it had a few too many digits). A's best facebook stalking attempts have gotten nowhere. He has vanished into the wind. It's typical. Then again, commitment-phobic A probably wouldn't even like him if she thought she would see him again.
He may always be for her though, the one that got away.