Music, Sex Shows and Steak

Happiness is such an evasive thing.

There was this one moment, back in September.

It was a warm September night, in the middle of the heatwave. He was leaving for New York the next day and we were falling asleep on the bed he had inflated on the floor in our friends’ apartment so we didn’t have to share the very small couch.

We had spent the whole day drinking at the park and were at that slightly tipsy intoxicated sleepy stage you get towards the end of a drinking day.

All of our deep conversation had come to an end by that point. We uttered a few senseless words - ‘your eyelashes are soooo long’ while I was looking into his deep green eyes. ‘I like your freckles’ he replied.

At that point, still face to face, he put his big muscly dancer’s body around me. He’s so tall my face was buried in his tattooed chest whilst our feet were touching.

He smelt so nice.

‘I have to remember this moment for as long as possible’ - I thought to myself - “Real bliss”.

It was a moment not to be repeated.

The next day, he packed his bag, we jumped on the tube to the airport together and he left for New York. 

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