I must confess
Is killing me noooooooooooooooooooow
Yes these words inspired by another famous goddess ring so true (for the record, I would like to state that I am not a fan of Britney nor obsessed by her, she just happens to get mentioned in my blog all the time). (oh and that I am not feeling particularly lonely, I am just confessing and it's just killing me nooooooooooooooow).
I have held back the news to savour them a bit longer but I must come clean: I have found my Sorbet. And I don't mean Fernando-the-hot-beach-buddy. I mean the Proper-Sorbet-Who-Was-A-Proper-Refreshment. The one you must meet when you recently reach new-found singledom. And who cleanses your palate from your ex.
Fortunately, I have chosen him very wisely because he is not living in town, but sort of passing through. Which is a good thing because had I met him in other circumstances and in another time period, I would probably have slightly fallen for him given he is super compatible with me according to my Relationship Compatibility HiTech Computer (aka Evie's gut feeling). What I enjoyed most of our brief time together was the talking. Which is stupid because you are not supposed to enjoy talking to your Sorbets. On the contrary, it's probably better to avoid talking alltogether because the last thing you want to happen is realise that you actually like them a little bit, because the Rule Number One in Sorbet Management is: One must never see one's Sorbet again.
But it's not like I think about it anymore. Or day dream of bumping into him.