I’m starting to think I have a magnet in me that once I attract a certain type, similar ones follow in droves. I mentioned about Fish being in the army here. Well, guess what? I spoke to The Italian over the weekend for the first time in months, and he’s in Afghanistan!  He was sent  there earlier this year, hence the lack of communication. His assignment ends in November which isn’t far away but judging from our conversations, he’s not liking it a lot, which is understandable given the situation there. I got a bit worried when he first told me about it but I like to be optimistic and hope for the best. The fact that his job is not exactly on the ‘dangerous’ list makes it easier to deal with I guess. He also made sure to remind me that the offer to visit him in Italy when he gets back still stands, the cheeky boy 😀


I can’t recall the exact number of times I’ve cried this past weekend, and today. I usually hate Mondays but today was different because I handed in my last assignment. So that’s it. I’m done for this semester. I crash-landed, but at least I got there. I have about six more months and then it’s a wrap. My miserable excuse of a university life ends. Just like that. I’m still left with that question.What next? Another miserable existence? No prospects. No hope. No happiness. I don’t think I could do it. I pray things change. I’m looking for ways to change things.

I was looking back at my plans for next summer today. I want to do so many things but when I sit down to look at them and attempt to even start planning, I get that sunken feeling. The feeling that all my plans are going to fall apart. It won’t happen. I can’t afford it. I wish they would go away because I really want to do many things with my life.One thing that I’m certain about  is the fact that I will go to Italy. The Italian is the main reason for this but it doesn’t stop there.

I’m now wide awake in bed. I just finished watching a very touching Spanish drama called Princesses. It’s about two prostitutes and their struggles. All I can say is ‘Ain’t this life a bitch?’ I was also looking at some pictures of King on my computer. I had taken them when he was asleep. He looks so peaceful and content, I just found myself yearning for him again. I remember the night before I took those photos we had sex three times. I loved his stamina. His body too. I miss him and I’m not ashamed to admit that to myself or even to him. If only he realised how much hurt he caused me when he cheated. It’s funny  that he constantly says he wants to be loved yet when I came into his life, loved him and remained faithful he still messed it up. I guess a leopard never changes its spots.


I just remembered a conversation I had over the weekend with an Italian friend of mine who lives in a very picturesque city in Italy. Isn’t the whole of Italy picturesque anyway? We were talking about Christmas plans. He’s looking forwards to a week in Prague. I told him that sounded like a nice plan. As for me, my Christmas plans mainly involve having time with my similarly poor family and then back to uni business. He said he wished we could get away and do something together. I said, “I do too, unfortunately, I’ m broke”.

The conversation then moved to how much the weather here is awful. I told him I was not impressed with the rain and was getting tired of the way of life here in general. The Italian then said, “Move to Italy bella. People in Sicily are still going to the beach. You know my home is always open for you. Even if you’re broke. You can spend a few days at my house in *picturesque city”. I thanked him for the offer.

“Next summer,” I meant it.

I’ve always had this feeling that The Italian fancies me. I know I often get deluded and needy but with this man, I can feel it. We’ve been friends for about a year now, mainly because we both share a passion for photography and travelling. He’s never been suggestive or leering like all the other random guys. He cares about me and is always checking to see how am doing. He encourages me to go for whatever I want in life, to have fun, to be honest with him. I love that. I also like the fact that he’s very intelligent. I’m a sucker for intelligent men. Conversations with him are always fulfilling and enriching, something that I don’t get from most men I talk to. I mean, afterall most of them are after  pussy, so I don’t know what I was expecting. I’m not saying The Italian is not after pussy too. If he is, then I’ll have to admit I like the way he’s subtle about it. I don’t mind either. He’s the type of man I could see myself having a fulfilling long time relationship with. I don’t care that he is 10 years older than me. 

He finished with a “Buonanotte bella “.