Sweet Convictions (20 page)

I
log into my emails which I haven’t checked for a good month now; after all, who’s really going to need a PA during December when everyone’s jetting across the world to soak up some sun or visit family?

I see an email from
Mark and my heart skips about ten beats. The smile on my face causes my cheeks to cramp. I scramble about the keyboard in an attempt to open it, but I’m so excessively excited I hit the delete button in error.

“
Noooooooooooooooooo!” I shriek. The cats shit themselves and simultaneously scamper out from under the duvet which we were, until now, snuggled in.

“Sorry babies. Mommy’s a little excited. Sorry, come, come.”
They stare at me dubiously as they peer from behind the door, and wonder off into the bedroom to a more noiseless safety.

“Fine,” I say feeling rejected and less
snug.

“You’ll be back and you know it
you fuzzy little fuckers.”

I finally calm myself and
move the email back to the inbox and open it.

“Shit, it’s from
last fucking week. He must think I’m completely not interested. Oh why the hell didn’t I check my fucking emails for fuck sake?”

From: Mark
Sent:
20 December 20:19
To:
Gemma
Subject:
Contact – Your Business

Hi Gemma

It’s Mark here. I’m just dropping you a line to let you know that the original free offer of technical assistance from our company has now expired. Unfortunately, it becomes chargeable should you require any additional support.

“Oh the joy of this email. True salesman. He’s just looking to build up his commission.” I sigh as I become deflated. Still, I read on.

Saying that, I’d really like to continue providing support should you require any if you’d like to get me out of hours?

Another beat skipped.

I must admit too that I read your email from a few days back and whilst at the time, I had no idea how to take it, I did find you rather funny.

Oh great so now he’s going out of his way to ridicule me?
I continue...

In fact, I’ve read it a few times and it’s really brightened my days whilst I’m currently working alone over the holiday period. I drew the short stick this year! Anyway, you’re probably abroad sunning yourself with your friends or boyfriend. If you’re interested, please get in touch by phoning the office number and I’ll let you have my personal one—in case you decide you need some guidance on your advertising campaigns??

Hope you have a lovely Christmas.

Regards, Mark

“Shit, shit, shit,” he’s actually interested. He’s finally given in to my flirtatious advances.
Jeez, it’s only taken you friggin ages dude!

I’d been flirting with him for
a while since we starting speaking but my hints and silly jokes just never seemed to dawn on him! So much so that eventually, although tempted to actually blurt out “I’d really like to meet and shag the hell out of you”, I ran out of things to say and simply gave up. In fact, at one point I started to think that perhaps he had no interest in women; either that or he managed to find a photo of me on the Net and rather devastatingly decided I was urrrgly. He truly was oblivious to what I was doing.
Bless his sweet innocent heart.
Oddly, his innocence just made me want him even more and a rather endearing challenge commenced.

Oh God
I want to call him but my mind clouds over with doubt. I’m eager but hesitant.
What’s changed I wonder?
I mean yes, he has a voice I want to listen to all day but honestly, let’s be realistic—he could be short and balding for all I know. I’m five foot nine...and a half!

O
h fuck it, let’s do this.

I
execute a bit of a pre-call search on the Net. I best see what he looks like first before I get stuck with him. There’s a few with the same name but something draws me to a photo that comes up on a mutual networking site. I double click for a larger image. I want that to be him. He’s cute. Not the typical type I’d go for, but he’s got beautiful silvery eyes and a dazzling smile that could melt me into a watery pulp. He looks tall but photos can be rather deceiving as we know. He’s wearing a black leather jacket over a white t-shirt. The amusing part is there’s a word written across the front but because the jacket’s hanging over each side, it’s only partly revealed as: ‘tard’. I giggle.
Fuck it, the only way to know is to ask.

I pick up my mobile and call his office
. After a shy hello and a few stumbled words, I thank him for his sweet gesture to continue helping me. It turns out he’s not even allowed to do that and could get into serious trouble for it.
Woops!
But apparently, so he says, something made him want to do this for me. Well, if anything, it’s good to feel special enough that someone would actually risk their job to help me out.
But why?!

I casually
query what networking sites he’s on. He mentions two, one of which is the one I’ve found the picture on. It’s still open in front of me. I’m trying to fit the voice to the face but I’m still unsure. I take a deep breath and swallow the nervous build-up of saliva.

“
Do you by any chance have a photo on there with a black jacket and t-shirt, holding up a drink and smiling cheesily?” I tease hastily, as I instantly regret each word I spit out.
Please be him, please be him, please be him.

“
Er, yes, I do actually. It’s at a bar in my hometown,” he says in a questioning and almost concerned voice.

Oh fuck he must just think I’m some nut-job stalker now
. Well done you Gemma!

Then
I hear a laugh.

“
Are you by any chance the one in the same person photographed on your website at all or is that a model?” he enquires.

I crack up
. Not only were we doing similar things in checking each other out, but he considers me model material. I fail hopelessly at abstaining to laugh and I snort.
Oh for fuck sake.

“
Sorry. Dear God no, that’s just me,” I correct him.

“Good to have clarification. A colleague of mine and I were trying to work it out.” I hear
a cocky smile in his pitch.
Shit, he’s been looking at me with his work mates? How embarrassing.
I quickly access my website to remind myself which picture I have up.
Okay, not too hideous. It could be better but I guess it’s not scared him off so I’ll see where this leads.

“Oh, well good to know you’re checking me out with your work friends,” I say regretfully again.
Bloody hell, what is wrong with my mouth and my brain?
They’re clearly not working conjunctively with me on this.

Thankfully, he changes the subject.

“So how’s the business going then?”

“
Mmm, a bit quiet at the moment what with being the holiday season and all. How did having the office to yourself go?”

“It
was deader than dead. Very boring indeed. I did finally get a turn to enjoy all of three days off before Christmas though.”

“
So what did you do over your exceedingly extended break?” I ask derisively.

“Not a hell of a lot actually
. I went to stay with friends for a couple days and spent Christmas day with my family.”

“Well that sounds lov
ely. I spent it alone this year,” I say feeling sorry for myself.

“Really?
That doesn’t sound very pleasant. Did you not spend it with your boyfriend?”
Ah, so the fishing begins.

“Nope, no boyfriend
, no husband. No girlfriend either. I split up with someone in the last month actually. It was a very new, no-strings-attached fling really and really just wasn’t going anywhere so there wasn’t much point in carrying on.”

“
Me too, I recently slit up with a girl I was seeing for about three months or so. That too wasn’t going anywhere. I agree. There’s no point in continuing if it doesn’t feel right. It’s not fair on either party. Just a time waster really.”

O
hhh so that’s why he didn’t respond to my flirty emails. Oh my god, he’s actually a decent guy. He’s clearly anything but the cheating kind. Fuck me, that itself is hard to find.
I want him even more now.

Half hour
of chit chat about this, that and everything else goes by and he asks if I want to exchange numbers. Ecstatic, I agree and we do a swap.

Mark and I have spoken and emailed each day since – whilst at work, on the trains, on the way to the gym, whilst cooking, doing a food shop, in the shower and even on the toilet. My phone does not leave my side.

Our daily
routines comprise going to work and getting one another through each monotonously drawn-out day, then making our way to our respective gyms, working out for half an hour, hurriedly heading home, putting on some dinner – generally, something quick and which doesn’t require our undivided attention or focus, showering and quickly meeting back on our messenger boards as we gobble up a bite to eat, generally of burnt grub.

Conversations
have gone on from the dark early evenings into the cold gloomy early mornings. I’m absolutely shattered but on the other hand, I’m awakened with the insane serotonin levels streaming through my veins.

Nowadays m
y journeys to and from work consist of out-of-tune-top-of-my-lungs singing and head-bopping in the car. Drivers pulling up next to me generally laugh and I’m positive they think I’m loony. God, even I consider myself a little fruit-loopdeeloopy, but it’s a good kinda crazy ‘cause I’m having the time of my life. I’m happy-and-in-love crazy.

We speak about anything
and everything. No boundaries, no lies, no bullshit. In a somewhat brief and whirlwind space of time we’ve learned almost all there is to know about one another, especially with which to form a basis of a relationship. He knows of even the unruly elements of my single lifestyle and not once has he ever judged me, thrown it back in my face or worse, run away. Not only does he accept me entirely for who I once was and who I am now, but he completely gets me too. Already we fit together with tetris-like precision. We have similar thoughts and we finish each other’s sentences. Cheezy I know. And likewise we both equally find rather specific things that are so random, thoroughly annoying.

He’s real. He doesn’t pretend to be someone he isn’t. He doesn’t walk around pretending to know what life is all about. I see him and he sees me.

He makes me feel valid; like I belong in this world. Before he came along, I was heavily depressed; my mind, my thoughts crawling about in depths of despair. I’d often cry about any and every little thing, with or without tangible reason and most of the time due to no specific cause at all. I felt lost. Born into this life, left to figure it all out - why I’m here and what I’m supposed to be doing in the hope that I would make a positive contribution and significant difference to the population. I’ve been left to find my place in the world, which I never seemed to be able to realise. And whilst now I’m proud to think I’ve managed rather well to get where I am today, I had begun to find it more and more difficult and reached a breaking point, so much so I felt like I wanted to leave this crappy world. Thank God for my cats. Sounds silly, but they kept me here. Mark and I have so much in common and such an extraordinary connection already—something I’ve not ever had the pleasure of feeling before. I’m completely out of my so-called comfort zone and it’s terrifying. Yet at the same time, I find it unreservedly phenomenal.

Since the start of our instant connection, we
’ve shared with each other the most intimate parts of our lives, from the most embarrassing and lowest parts, to details of how badly we’ve been let down by others. Scarily, we discover that at one point and inconceivably at quite similar times in our individual lives before meeting, and after both having experienced relentless hurt, we had both at that time, mutually without knowing it, made the decision to just give up on love and piss on the idea of relationships—to forget meeting that right person, to forget living in hope for something that may never be and to stop opening ourselves up to disappointment and hurt.

I can’t even count the number of years I’ve struggled and searched and waited for acceptance for who I
was. So many experiences caused me to close off my heart, and my insecurity overshadowed, almost blackening my dreams. I virtually lived in the penumbra of my true self and nobody should ever have to do that.

N
ow, having found one another, and having been open, honest and transparently upfront without a need to impress each other, we’ve realised that we both want the very same things out of a relationship. And out of life in general. We’ve gone from hating love, back to loving the idea of love all over again.