Back to haunt me.

Well, it was going to happen sooner or later, one of my bastardlier actions has caught up with me and is simultaneously blocking my path and having a little nibble at my arse. The girl from a few weeks ago that had a boyfriend and I didn’t behave like my usual gentlemanly self around? She’s got a cousin. A rather nice cousin. From Wales.

Months ago I got talking to her on Facebook, we’ve got a lot in common, same kind of humour and taste in films and music. She’s even a raver, which is awesome. She’s quite cute and sounds a lot of fun. More recently we’ve been texting each other, usually at the weekend, usually drunkenly. It’s not really an internet romance, no “online girlfriend” kind of thing. I’m trying to avoid sounding like a neckbeard sad act here in case you haven’t noticed. Basically I thought of her as a nice girl that I was never likely to meet and didn’t spend any great deal of time pondering about it. After all, I’m up here in Scotland, and she’s way way down there, in Wales. There’s an entire country in between! And that was it, until last night when we were texting again, asking what the other was up to this weekend (Her: meph. Me: Doing the laundry) and generally doing the carefree flirty bit when she mentioned about like, how we should like, totally hang out next summer and I jokingly said she should just hop on a train and come on up for a party just now.

And she said “Sure, how much would the train be? I’ll stay at my cousin’s for a bit.” Then I realised I’d forgotten that I wasn’t living on a great big continent, and just because I could look in any direction and not see the sea didn’t mean I wasn’t living on a little island that France wears like a jaunty hat. Anywhere’s just a train ride away if you really want to get there. My best friend was in a long distance relationship for years most of the way to the other side of Europe for fuck’s sake and I’m thinking that it’s easier to get to fucking Mordor than Cardiff. Kinda shot myself in the foot here eh? My friendship with her cousin is more or less done and that’s exactly the person whose good books I really need to be in. She’s such a cynical bitch, the very thing I first liked about her, that I doubt some bullshit speech about “giving love a chance” will do much good.

Part of me is sorely tempted to see how far I can push it: if she’d tell her cousin before she came here, if she’d wait until things were heating up nicely then drop the bomb, or if she still likes me enough to keep shtoom and stick to glowering at me. There’s a temptation to see how far I can build this Jenga tower before it collapses and I can laugh like a mad man at the wreckage. And maybe get some nookie from a cute Welsh lass while I’m at it. But no, I’d feel really bad if she came all the way up here only for it all to go expectedly tits up.

Which is why I’m getting fired into the chubby lass that stays ten minutes away with the big tits and sexy chest piece! Woohoo!