London 30/11/1989 Thursday
It happened… Yesterday David and I met at 10 in the morning (so hard to get up so early with the cold). Went to his flat as he wants to move there and decorate it. He wanted to clean it all up. He took the old carpet out and is going to put a new one in. I was so tired and it was cold so I lied in the bed. He laid down too and the rest is biology. He has a lot more experience than Gustavo or Gino and it was great! But I’m not sure why I don’t feel so happy now. I feel guilty, like I have done something wrong. Maybe it was too soon. On the other hand it was good. I don’t think I want to like him, he’s talking about us moving together! No chance! Routine destroys relationships. We went to eat a McDonald’s, David met a friend and they were chatting. On the way back we saw a dead body and two policemen keeping guard. David turned to me and said “He’s dead… And I love you!” Even he couldn’t believe he said that, so he said it again. We just burst out laughing in the middle of the road.
Yesterday he called me to go to the flat again, this time to actually clean it. I told him to call me at 10 (I wanted to be alone today) and would let him know then…
I had decided not to go, but woke up thinking I was going, but then he didn’t call, I think he didn’t’ call, can’t hear the phone from the bedroom (I turned the bell down, it was too loud).