Monday, January 16, 2006


After my bitter disappointment on Iris’ birthday, I decided that I was wasting my time. I had recently been asked to supervise a new project at the company’s depot in Warrington for a couple of weeks and I accepted. I thought that if I distanced myself from her for a time, it may help. Two days later, I was ensconced in my new office sixty miles away. There was a lot to do and I got stuck into the task straight away. Being in a strange town and in a small mediocre hotel, the nights were very boring. This was when I first started to write poetry. I had never done this since my schooldays when I had a crush on a girl I met at a friend’s party. The poem wasn’t particularly good so I scrapped it and wrote a better one. It was one describing how I felt about Iris and hoping that she may yet some day feel the same.
I came home on Saturday morning for the weekend and straight away was aching to see Iris. I called round that afternoon but she wasn’t in. I wrote a hurried note and pushed it through the door. I was very surprised to receive a ‘phone call from her later that day asking me where I’d been as she had rung my local office only to be told I was working away. I explained that I had taken a temporary transfer and would be going back first thing Monday morning for the rest of the week.
I suddenly knew I just had to see her that night and asked her to go out to a dance. Dancing was one thing that we both loved and she readily agreed. That evening was absolutely marvellous; she even told me that she had missed me. Later that night, back at her house, she told me how her ex had called to ask her to patch things up. I was thinking that this was where I got the old ‘heave-ho’ but contrary to my fears, she said that she wasn’t the slightest bit interested and that she had told him not to bother her again.
Before I went home, she asked for my new office number so that she could ring me to find out when I would be coming back. This, coupled with the fact that she had completely lost interest in her ex, boded well for the future and I began to think that I would find her more receptive towards me. I told her that I would be back at the end of the week and with that, I left. I hadn’t given her the poem I wrote as I thought that she wasn’t quite ready for it and quite frankly, wondered if she would think me so very stupid. Probably next weekend may be more suitable.

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