airplanes

Airplanes are the bane of my love-life.

A love-life which seems both complicated and frustrating at the moment.

That lovely, lovely girl I broke up with a couple of months ago will be back in town soon. My Maria. For the rest of the summer, then she leaves again. I still haven't quite given up on her and don't really want to become involved with anyone else until I've seen her and know what the score is. I know she misses me.

I've also been missing her alot lately and have deliberately been fighting the urge to have that third pint, stay out that extra hour, find someone to distract me. I need to deal with those feelings instead of avoiding them.

A stupid, insistant part of me just wants to have her for the summer, even though I know she'll leave again and it'll be over. Again.

At the same time, Miss Hot Tub has been in touch, she wants more of me, more of my cock. She sees me as a potential partner in some very interesting crimes, and I must say, I haven't met someone as sexually intriguing as her in a long time. We could do all sorts of new and interesting things together. Things that would be worth the plane fare.

She also made the right noises regarding kids and settling down "eventually". If everything else worked out, with the right "someone". All such thoughts are obviously premature after a two night romance, but they mean she's worth a serious look. Aside from the few thousand kilometers seperating us, that is.

Then there's that third girl. That one Maria hates. That one I don't dare touch until I'm absolutely sure I'm moving on. That one who kept shamelessly trying to get me to cheat. I know I'm going to bump into her downtown one of these days. Will I run? Or will I finally let her have her way with me?

I want to. I'm just not sure it's worth having to lie to my ex. See, she too flies away in a couple of months.

Damn airplanes.