Mmm, has to be a story since I tend to end up being the joke when I'm trying to tell them. As I always seem to tell the strange things I like to keep quiet in your journals I'll tell you about one of my past relationships.
Right, when I was about sixteen I went out with a boy that I met through friends in a club in Manchester. He seemed nice, we seemed to get on well, so, of course when he asked me for his number I gave him my real number. Even more amazingly; he calls me to tell me he thought I was fantastic and he'd really like to meet up. Flattered, I agree. So, after a while of this behaviour we start to go out.
When we'd been going out for five months we had a pattern for most weekends, meeting up on Saturday, wondering around town. After one of these such meetings he kisses me goodbye, tells me he'll phone me tomorrow. A week later; no contact, so I phone him. I get no answer. I try a few more times and figure, oh well, he lost interest and consider us broken up.
Six months later, I open my e-mail to find he's written to me. I open this subjectless e-mail; there is no writing, but there is a picture of an ostrich. An ostrich?! I e-mail back; 'What the hell?' and get, surprise, surprise, no reply. I have never heard from this boy since. It's a running joke among my friends that in fifteen years time he'll turn up and try to pick up where we left off.
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Date: 2005-08-11 10:16 pm (UTC)Right, when I was about sixteen I went out with a boy that I met through friends in a club in Manchester. He seemed nice, we seemed to get on well, so, of course when he asked me for his number I gave him my real number. Even more amazingly; he calls me to tell me he thought I was fantastic and he'd really like to meet up. Flattered, I agree. So, after a while of this behaviour we start to go out.
When we'd been going out for five months we had a pattern for most weekends, meeting up on Saturday, wondering around town. After one of these such meetings he kisses me goodbye, tells me he'll phone me tomorrow. A week later; no contact, so I phone him. I get no answer. I try a few more times and figure, oh well, he lost interest and consider us broken up.
Six months later, I open my e-mail to find he's written to me. I open this subjectless e-mail; there is no writing, but there is a picture of an ostrich. An ostrich?! I e-mail back; 'What the hell?' and get, surprise, surprise, no reply. I have never heard from this boy since. It's a running joke among my friends that in fifteen years time he'll turn up and try to pick up where we left off.