winds of change

I've been dating my kiwi chef for about a week now. It has been very sweet and lovely with evenings filled with dinners, and movies, and occasionally sleep overs. Sometimes a cute message would captivate me and I'd be thrown into a blushing post-script analysis as I have a tendency to do. It seemed like I couldn't get enough of his undivided attention. Words were tossed around by our friends, dangerous words that I wince at like, "boyfriend, girlfriend, love" when they saw us around each other.

But last weekend, it seemed that something had changed. His typically adoring glances seemed to disappear as the night wore on and although in the morning he was back to his devoted self, the night before left a bad taste in my mouth. Eager for a reconciliation, I wrote him a sweet note, thinking perhaps, that I had been holding back my own affections too often. The note has currently gone unacknowledged. He even called last night to cancel our plans for today.

Under the shroud of this dark and looming cloud, I did the only reasonable thing. I made a date with a guy I met when out for drinks with my girlfriends. I'm here for a short time, it might as well be a good time.