Postdate

The transition from dating to a relationship is a peculiar one for me. In theory practice makes perfect but that defeats the object surely? Anyway, for me the transition has never been a defined point and n some ways that’s a bit sad. I’d love some epiphany, words of fire in the sky, some event (ideally involving sex) that says to me “there. You have a boyfriend”.

That speaks to my insecurities because other, Fella not being the least of them, seem quite comfortable. One day I was a guy he was seeing; the next the other half. Yesterday I noted with nary an outward ripple to convey the significance I attach to the phrase, that I was “my love”. Though I did make sure the fireworks inside were rewarded later with some, er, fireworks inside. Hmm, that attempt at a rather crass joke didn’t work too well, did it gentle reader? Best leave that side of things to those who know better; any suggestions let me know.

We have a whole range of activities planned up to early August. Then it’s my birthday (32nd/21st) and then his birthday (30th/23rd no less; and already an angstorama!) and then… well, the assumption is there. I think the biggest thing of all the mooted activities is first weekend in August when after a (Friday) dinner at a ‘posh’ restaurant (which, unbeknownst to fella will be my treat) we shall spend the weekend at Fella’s parents’ place in leafy Buckinghamshire. Parents will – dash it all ;-) – be in France at the time, so we shall have to amuse ourselves as best we can…

I met the parents (and the brother) on Monday. They seemed nice if understandably distracted. Not the best time: “Hi. Sorry for your loss. Now; I’m Frumpella – yes, that’s right: the one whose been firing one up your son several times a week for, well, some time now. How are you?”

No, that’s not what I said, don’t worry. It was very civilised. I stayed at work till about 7:30; spent some time in the last of the sunshine in St James’s park reading and then walked to Kings Cross to meet Fella’s family’s train. It was one of those evenings when you really remember why you love London. The side streets full of boutiques and buskers; museums and mansions. Beautiful and so full of memories – my entire adult life spent here. I went on a date here, was taken to that *ahem* venue there, got drunk there, studied there, got kissed there… memories. *big sigh* and then I met Fella's family...

Well, I look forward to a lot more memories to put in the happy place…