Tasting the Acorn

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November 05, 2009

I was watching Neighbours on the gantry with the guys. You climbed up the ladder; there were no spare chairs. You sat on my lap.

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You stood on the stage and started to sing. All I could hear was an angel.

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After the final performance of some great acting and singing where the technical involvement had been shockingly bad, you wrote in my programme that my part in it was the only bit that didn't suck.

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We were playing football in the playground; I lost half a tooth when my chin connected with your head.

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I walked into the exam room and you asked me if we should bother, I said that we might as well.

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You got into bed with me because you said it looked warm. It was.

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We met in the hallway; you kissed me for the first time. I was confused.

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I stood in the queue, waiting my turn. You saw me and smiled. "Cinnamon swirl?" I was touched that you remembered.

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I asked you to pose in front of a landscape so the photo wouldn't be boring. You did and I smiled.

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I resigned, you weren't surprised.

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I knocked on your door, your Mum answered. I needed to talk so we went for a walk. And we talked.

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Early morning on New Years day; we'd been kicked out of a taxi. You were very drunk; I was just drunk. On the way home along the canal you decided to take a swim. I stopped you.

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You had sent me a text, "help". When I stood at your door I was soaking wet from pedalling frantically through the rain. He'd dumped you and the world was ending. You hugged me and wouldn't let go.

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We sat in the car talking with heated seats all toasty. Then car wouldn't start; flat battery.

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Bonfire night, fireworks all around. A blog post down memory lane.

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