About face

Well the storm hit and rattled me to the core. Idiot French flatmate left his windows open and his bedroom door nearly came of the hinges swinging back and forth... I'm hoping if I keep acting a total bitch towards him he will more out sooner rather than later... Easy enough to do I just keep asking him to pay his share of the bills. 

Byron had a calmer weekend. Too calm. They got along this weekend. So no naughtiness today. True to form this. As soon as we're getting close (and I don't mean the bus shenanigans I mean emotionally close) he magically has a peaceful weekend with her and we take another step back. 

Of course the psyche of the fact they're going away next week has nothing to do with it I'm sure...

I'm getting really frustrated with this. In a benevolent mood I tell myself he's confused, in a very bad situation and (by his own admission last Friday) scared of screwing things up any further. 

But tonight I'm in a mood as black as the clouds that rolled across Great Britain last night. Tonight he has more faces than Janus. Tonight he would deserve me turning up at his place to announce to his girlfriend all that has passed between us in the last 11 months (that's one month less than they've been together). But I know as my friend he would never forgive me for such an act and I couldn't live with that. 

And after all patience is a virtue. Good things come to those who wait. And in all likelihood this weekend has been a mere cessation of hostilities between them, not the end of the war.