an avalanche of d.

STOP THE PRESSES... I think I might be desirable.

At various points in the last decade, I have had various crushes on various people. Guys I sat next to in Maths, the guy who showed me to the changing room in Jack Wills, even friend's brothers. I would see them, get to know them, begin to like them and then do precisely nothing about it (fear of rejection, obviously). Because of this, I managed to form the idea that guys just don't like me. I think I'm pretty, I'm definitely capable of making myself so, and I have a good sense of humour and a great personality, yet there was not one guy who liked me enough to think twice about me (I presume). 

I carried this belief through with me to Uni - where faithful, loving relationships are like gold dust, and expected nothing.

That's not what I got though.
J is back on the scene trying his hardest, yet again, to get into my pants. He succeeded. Last Saturday, after a heavy pre-drinking session, we set off to B. On the way down, however, I changed my mind - why spend money I need to save just to dance around a darkened village hall amongst people I probably don't like? I messaged J telling him I was coming over and he ran down to open the door for me. It played along familiarly; making out and over-zealous tit grabs in the lift, a blow job and an unsuccessful attempt to come on my part. The light was on though, so progress! I've now been plunged into silence again - he's doubtlessly had his fill of me for the time being, so it's all quiet on the western front.

FH has a friend in second year who lets us go round to his house and smoke weed in his living room, I'll call him X. Before we were properly introduced, X and I, he tried to dance with me in the club and I had to reject him because I was sober and in a bad temper. Regardless of this, he seems to like me - FH, LJ and JJ have commented on it; the way he always asks if I'm going over to the house, the way he looks at me and talks to me. It is what it is. X is cute, and if he finds the balls to talk to me, who knows what will happen.

Then there's VB, the guy with whom I went for a drink ages ago. I had to send him a 'Dear John' unfortunately, except it wasn't a heartfelt letter sent to a war zone, it was a long-ish text from my phone to his explaining how much work I had and that boys weren't a priority (utter bullshit, I think they always have been). He accepted it and I've not seen him since, although the City is a small one so I probably will soon.

R is making himself known again and we've reached a new plateau in our relationship (omg yay) - we exchanged snapchat usernames - wonderful! More benign chat but this time on a different social media platform! I don't hold out much hope.

There is someone worth mentioning, although I don't know yet what I think of him. I'll refer to him as the Cypriot. He's a friend of X's and FH's who gets high with us sometimes. He's foreign and exotic but completely lovely. He has a cute accent and a lovely, dopey smile. The way he runs his hands through his hair is hot as well.

and that's really it, as well as bland attempts at being chatted up in the club (which don't really bear mentioning) that is an appraisal of my love life at the present moment. Some of you might read all of this and think "well, there isn't exactly a mile-long queue for this girl" - at which point I would be inclined to agree, however, it is a queue, and the only one I've been at the front of. Ever.