Today came and went with no contact whatsoever from Amber.
Well, why would there be? She doesn’t have my phone number, or my address and besides, as far as she's concerned, I shagged her senseless over a 36 hour period, whispered sweet nothings in her ear, promised to make her a breakfast fit for a queen, left her house for the shops and never came back.
She’ll probably never want to speak to me again.
Despite that, I kept my mobile switched on and close at hand all day just in case she did manage to get my number somehow and call, but, well…she didn’t.
Neither did Tom, the elusive fucker.
Where is he when I need him most?
I tried his phone several times during the day, but to no avail.
I even went down The Fox this evening to see if Spanish John could shed any light on where Amber lived, in which house we’d partied at on Saturday.
He was more clueless than me.
Despite that, I determined to stay positive, you know, for when she does call at some unspecified point in the future. And if she doesn’t, well fuck it, one young strumpet found me sexy, there are plenty more out there that will as well.
If Amber isn’t to be, I’ll just find someone else, someone far more beautiful and interesting. Failing that I could always swallow my pride and have a crack at, well…WHO???
Oh, who am I trying to fool? Amber is constantly in my thoughts. In fact, she's quickly becoming an obsession.
I want to see her again so much I physically ache.
That's not healthy...is it?
