Thank god the future is a mystery

5 years ago, I was in Oceana in Nottingham celebrating the end of January exams & my 20th birthday. It was the usual Uni night of drunken debauchary. However, this particular evening was to be extra special.

Bump’s dad & I were best friends from the second week of Uni. And from approximately the fourth week, I knew I wasn’t going to settle for us being just friends. But it wasn’t until about the eighth week that I got fed up of waiting for him to cotton on. So (after much vodka) I filled him in on what everyone else in our halls had already realised. Now, forgive me, this next bit is rather hazey but I believe it was along the lines that, clearly, we were made for each other & he needed to stop faffing around & ask me out already… I wish I’d stopped there & that I could claim to have sounded that rational & coherent… But from what he’s told me since, it’s safe to say obviously I was right as no one in their right mind would have been friends with the drunken, demanding, wailing banshee he paints me out to be that night unless he was actually in love with me & just didn’t realise it.

However, he politely declined. And claimed we were better off as friends. Cue a month and a half of slowly chipping away at this preposterous idea (again, usually rather a lot of vodka was involved) until the new term, when I decided I’d let things go. If he had resisted my oh-so-polite-not-at-all-over-the-top advances this far, clearly it was time to throw in the towel.

And then, on January 20th, 2009, he finally saw the light (after angrily accusing me of kissing someone else, which I did not. If I’d known I just had to make him jealous from the off that would have saved me a lot of time… & vodka.)

I have to say. It’s a good job we can’t tell the future. I may really have been fighting a losing battle if he’d known he’d be a daddy a mere 5 years down the line, dealing with a hormonal, demanding, wailing banshee!

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