Thursday 23 November 2017

#321 The Road Traveled By Hetal

10:45pm. Wetherspoons. Poplar. I'd been intending to write some installment about the room search or the kitchen noise or whatever but recent conversations had interjected, which was fine. That happened. What it meant was that I might need to make it a spliced post.

The Ledger Building wasn't the worst place to escape to. It was warm. It had a Christmas tree and 568 mils of IPA was only two seventy-five. In London. Sitting there from somewhere around eleven until midnight was part of my latest cunning plan to evade restlessness. I couldn't be irritated about not being able to sleep if I wasn't trying to and where better not to try to sleep than the pub?

I needed alcohol anyway to deal with the discussion I'd just had with my ex about whether or not I should continue seeing Luisa. She had certainly put a lot of care into making her point. I'd say one thing for Hetal, she didn't do things by halves. Why was she doing it at all though?

To be fair, she might have had a reasonable enough viewpoint and was doing her best to explain it maturely. I really struggled with it though. I felt like I didn't know how to bring my own feelings into the conversation. Was she talking with too much conviction, or was I not doing enough to represent myself? I went back to the email, she'd sent, read it through once more and started drafting a response.

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