1, 2, now 3

A promise is nothing if you don’t follow through with it. She didn’t actually make a promise, but it was difficult not to infer intent. You could say the first few days of the year promised much, but that’s really nothing more than my own expectation.

Except my expectation was for just brief enthusiasm and …

… and here we are. 3 weeks later. Exactly where I thought we’d be. Exactly where we’ve been before. Heading down the slippery slope of we-don’t-have-sex and staring back at well-that-was-nice-but-really-what-was-the-point?

I’m prepared to make a vague prediction. It’s just over a fortnight till Valentine’s Day, and I’m prepared to give odds of 50/50 that we won’t fuck then either.

I guess I’d better stock up on tissues.

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