Part Two.

Do you remember the first time? The first time she met the festival boyfriend that is – the boy she met in a field with the most intense gaze in the whole, wide world. She never found the five-pound note on which he'd written Love in the Time of Cholera. But this year, this Reading Festival, she did find him. And reader? She'd married him. No, not the London Loves. Despite this unforgiveable, lengthy hiatus she is still happily unmarried. And after 15 months with the Irishman, now single again. No, it was the festival boyfriend's girlfriend who had married him.

It was really amazing to bump into him, though she kind of wished she hadn't been eating really grotesque festival food at the time. The kisses were kind of amazing too. The same stage, the same great bands, the same chat – it was seeming to be going swimmingly well. Only, why was he so apologetic and defensive? She joked about him having wives and children. Turned out it wasn't all that funny.

“I want to kiss you and punch you in the face at the same time, which is a really complex set of emotions. And would be physically quite difficult.”

Were her exact words after having her suspicions confirmed. What she then did, was say: “I can't do this.” Which was the right thing, the good thing, to do. Less good was avoiding him when she bumped into him the next day. But then, there was more festival fun to be had... Updates will come, promise. There is much ground to be caught up on

PS Hello Festival Boyfriend if you're reading this, having coaxed the name of the blog from my friend. Thanks for the fun. Radiohead truly will never sound the same again.

808s and Heartbreaks

She is feeling: utterly entranced and ecstatic at the amazing Radiohead set she just saw which brought down the stellar curtain on Reading.
She is also: utterly heartbroken at having met a great guy on Friday, who she saw again on the Sunday of the festival and had this mega mega connection with, like insanely, and then to watch him walk off as the litter pickers started clearing up the mess. They may as well have swept up her heart which had just fallen onto the ground.
It was hot, sexy, beardy kissing, and a hell of a lot of it. He said amazing things, about her eyes, her smile, her life, everything. In short, she had one of the best nights of her life. But what happened? What happened? He seemed intent on them going their separate ways despite everything - which, it has to be said, was definitely not imagined.
He wrote a note for her on a five pound note, and, seeming as torn as she, said if it ever made its way to her hands again they were meant to be together. He said it felt like he was a missing opportunity and that there were things he should be saying. She just wanted the question why to be answered.
Maybe it was just a festival romance - those gems that are even more truncated than holiday loves, but burn just as brightly. Maybe he's married with five-and-a-half kids. Maybe they'll get married and recount this story over dinner party tables. At this particular point in time, none of those options sound too far fetched to her.
Radiohead and Gaslight Anthem (their first kiss) will never sound quite the same again. And if you see a fiver with Love in the Time of Cholera written on it in a running-out biro? Do let her know. It's got her name on it.

* She's just checked by the way - there are 1,302,000,000 five pound notes in circulation at the moment. This could take some time.