Moving into first

Yesterday I was pretty much in a permanent state of excitement. Second was due to fly home and we were going to have a video chat. To me, it felt like an impending date.

We have had two very short video chats up til now. The first was the night before he flew out for work and he surprised me – I wasn’t expecting the video call as we’d only chatted on the phone or messaged previously. The conversation had been short but good, yet I was shy too. It also didn’t help that my son had walked in as we were talking.

The second time was even shorter – he attempted to call me whilst on board his ship. The picture quality was awful so we soon gave up.

Yesterday’s promised video chat, once he was back on British soil, had built up into epic proportions.

He text me throughout the day – before leaving for the airport; waiting for his first flight, waiting for his second. For both of us, the texts were full of promise for what was to come. There may have been a little gentle teasing on his part in anticipation for my flushed face – however short the previous video chats had been, that had been pretty obvious both times.

It was going to be late before he finally landed in Scotland and reached his hotel, but he’d given me an estimate of ten o clock.

My house has never been so tidy. I was frenetic, desperate to burn off this anticipation and to pass the time.

Admittedly, at 9.30pm, I poured myself a gin, checked my make up and hair and then sat to listen to music.

He finally messaged just before ten to say he had landed and would get his bag and then a taxi and then would call.

I would say that was the longest hour of my life. He kept in touch but, as you would expect from a busy airport, he was delayed at each stage although he kept me updated.

Normally blushing, my face was flushed with the gin and the tension whilst I waited, and I fanned myself desperately in attempt to calm down .

If any of you were a fly on the wall, you no doubt would have laughed st my antics during that hour. At one point I actually feared that he wasn’t going to call at all as the time continued to drag.

And then, he was there. Yes, I blushed numerous times. He likes it apparently (I’m not so keen). The conversation was pretty much fluid. There were a few suggestive moments (which added to the blushes) but he was a gentleman and what’s more, he is as gorgeous as I thought he was. I could get lost in those eyes.

It’s still a month until our date but he said he would speak to me today. I can’t wait for either.

I started to engage with Wild Card all those weeks ago because I knew that I was getting attached to Second and needed the distraction.

Second has behaved impeccably in the two months I’ve known him. We’ve been in contact, at length, every single day, even to the extent of discussing things that had been worrying each other in our lives generally.

But even as I write all this, it doesn’t change the fact that he lives four hours away. Distance means absolutely nothing to him. He travels around the world for work. He seems to have friends all over the country and thinks nothing of driving to see them. But it means something to me and this is the one red flag that is keeping hold of my feelings and interest and encouraging me not to get too attached.

Given the right conditions, I could fall hard for this man.

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