Within minutes of arriving I was in a pickle because my extremely over sized and over packed suitcase was far too heavy for me to lift. I stood stranded at the top of the staircase as my friends giggled on about how typical a situation it was for me to be in. Fortunately a beautiful young man (six pack; the works) came to my rescue! Now it was I giggling as they look onwards with their "green" eyes.
Furthermore; before going I did not think I would enjoy the holiday at all. I wasn't looking forward to it. I was however determine to make the best of whatever it was to be. And that I did. I had the time of my life, really. No one would have guessed how upset I was before going. It was like I was a new person. Was I ?
I was free. Finally, I had left my hurt behind and had finally started to forget and move on. As the holiday continued; w went out every night (a little drunk); danced and forgot about everything that had happened prior to the holiday.
I had worked hard to get my bikini bodily (lies, i baked and ate a carrot cake before going) but I felt fantastic. It must have shown, because I was getting attention from guys who I would never expect to even notice me. My best friend and I, played around with this a little. We would go out and socialise (but ensure both of us got back to the apartment with put dignity intact each night. We had fun and it really was the best time.
When we returned home t rainy Scotland, we weren't sad. We did wish another week or so on holiday, but we couldn't stay. So we returned home (after many an airport fiasco (Nicole and I lost each other on the last night and ended up searching for each; followed by an all nighter getting really drunk and not knowing the hand luggage allowances.)
So one day we decided to go out. I bumped into a boy I knew from school (we'd had like two conversations before this encounter) we chatted a little and then he asked to go for a drink sometime. Thinking nothing of it. I agreed (I was moving to France for a year two months later and everyone knew I wasn't looking for anything. I even told him this at the time) just mates I said. He agreed, but that wasn't what he had in mind. He took my number and off I went.
A day later. I received a text. What ever happened to the three day rule ? A week later We went for that "drink" after a few he started telling me how he had liked me for ages and that he was actually on his way home to ask me out the night he bumped into me. Slightly creeped out by his keenness I hurried the night to an end. Said thank you and went home.
But that wasn't the end of it. Not even close. He would send me constant messages and drunk call me all the time. I thought if I ignored it; it would go away, right? Wrong. He kept his persistence and despite me telling a little fib that my phone wasn't working. He didn't stop. I would find myself swearing at my phone (i never swear) I was becoming annoyed and frustrated and still there seemed to be no end. I didn't not reply as when The time came for me to move to France; I thought that would be it. He spent some time waiting outside my house. And even said he was coming to say goodbye ans that he had gotten me a going away present, and then Facebook was his new tool. He would send constant messages "I'm sorry if this seems clingy..." Emm yes, it does! He just wouldn't get it! Eventually I got help from a friend who showed my how to blocked someone on Facebook (I can't work technology) Relieved I grinned and thought that would be it. Over. But no, he then started sending messages to my friend to tell me to get in contact. I was furious. What made him think he had the right to tell me what to do! I was alarmed and a little shaken. Despite living in a different country, i would be spending a few days in Scotland every month. What if I bumped into him again. The thought still haunts me. Now I'm very careful when it comes to guys. To be honest imm actually terrified
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