The world is pretty in pink…plus…sometimes it even sparkles

In a sad turn of events (but expected), English has returned to the cliffs of Dover. Literally. He got on a plane eastward bound in the wee hours of this morning.  He will be back in his homeland in time for the weekend and his continuation of fulfilling the next two to three years (I think) to qualify for his pension one day and return to Vancouver.

Even after the spastic-ness of myself last Friday evening, turns out I did not pooch the friendship and he is not ignoring me. Which I must say is a relief. He’s just letting me be the crazy (good and bad) Pirate Girl that I am and texting when he can and when he is near WiFi. Needless to say, the dependence on WiFi is painful and the window that was available Tuesday night to meet up evaporated when he texted me trying to use What’sApp. But to be clear, the texting is no longer as flirty as it was say…the first night he arrived.

It was a sad realization, however,  at 10:30pm Tuesday night to know we wouldn’t see each other again this trip. Failed texts and attempts to hang out have been thwarted by his popularity, my busy active single life and lack of technology or brain power to man up and pay the exorbitant text cost in Canada when the WiFi doesn’t work.

He did man up Wednesday morning and just texted using iMessage that came with the phrases “so sorry”, “can’t meet you on the North Shore”, “have a great time at the beach after work”, and “Big Hug”. Kinda feel like this has been a ploy so someone (ie. me) from Vancouver will come visit him in Kent. Or is that just optimistic and wishful thinking?

Regardless, I’m securely back in random friend zone, feeling like the connection we once had or have, does not translate well on text messaging or emails. It’s hard to explain. But I’ll take the friend zone. Not going to lie, it is a sigh of relief to know he’s still my friend. Now, if I’m a better friend (believe me, I’ve been that absent friend the last year), then next time he’s in town, maybe I won’t be relegated to the sorry pile.

 Life is better with him in it, whatever the status of the relationship is.

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