Out of Ink

During the day before we went watching District 9 (see District 9 Film Review). GJ and I had gone shopping for a new printer he needed. At the till he was asked: “Would you like to buy any ink cartridges?” To which I answered:
“No, it comes with them.”
(Obiously thinking that he could get the cartidges cheaper than the £18 they were in the shop, trying to save him money!)
“They are only starter ones. They only do about 50 pages.”
“We’ll be fine.” I answered for him again.
(Goddess, I’m quite very bad at that at times, when I think I’m right!)

So I had grand plans the other night: Jaquizi bath, a good meal and chill. Then GJ texted me, stating his printer had run out of ink! I felt really bad, so offered to pick him up and take him back to mine to complete the printing for him. He kept saying it wasn’t my fault but I felt guilty. He needed the work the following morning and it was too late for him to go anywhere and buy any.

I scoffed a quick tea down and picked him up. It was lovely to see him. I don’t quite know why, but I have a lot of positive regard for him. We have previously been out (see An update on men and Men, he was called the friendly ex in these posts). I guess I still have some feelings for him, especially after our recent conversation (see District 9 Film Review).

My love life seems to be getting more and more confusing and more and more complicated. Yet, I have had the honest conversation about staying friends with them both. What’s going on?

Blog soon (hopefully less confused),

Antony