No this is not a story.
It is unfortunately my life at the moment. You might argue that all of life is a story, well if that is the case then mine is a highly charged nail biter.
I met a guy, not my usual type, a bit rough around the edges, but he was really keen.
I had been on my own for a long time and I was pretty lonely. We met a couple of times and then he lost my phone number. To my complete amazement he posted a notice on the lamp-post, at the bottom of the road where I was living, begging me to phone him as he was desperate to keep in touch with me. It was very romantic and I was bowled over.
After a while he told me a very sad story.
He had been put into care when he was seven because his mother couldn't cope. He was abused and beaten in care, and having become brutalised he continued to get into trouble ended up in a young offenders institution and then prison.
He expected me to finish with him when he told me all this but I didn't. I was going to be the one person who stood by him, the one person who would really care about him. I would save him. He said he wanted to make a fresh start, he had a job, wanted to have a girlfriend and settle down into an ordinary life.
Unfortunately that is not the complete story. Neither of his story, nor of mine. I will post more later.
