The Love of Bare November Days



It’s the start of November and that means graduation week all over the country. Graduates come back to their university cities to accept their diploma’s and party. Mr. Bingley is a graduate. Thus it was a very welcome telephone call from my mother asking me to come home for the week. Immediately after the call I booked my tickets and threw some random bits and pieces into my suitcase and left.

I will be spending this start of November admiring the leaves turn gold instead of watching the grads turn old. I shall be feeling a cold November breeze whiffle through my hair instead of the burning sensation of alcohol through my throat as we celebrate their return. I shall smile at the touch of my mother’s arm around my shoulder instead of the shock that would run through my body as Mr. Bingley taps my shoulder.

Like Robert Frost once beautifully worded: ‘Not long ago I learned to know the love of bare November days.’ Bare translates to many different meanings but I relate to them all. Bare is without covering or content; barren, bleak, desolate, empty. Bare is simple and unadorned. And I feel myself doing exactly so; loving these bleak and simple November days. Because this bleakness feels safer than the hopefulness of a love that crumbles in the end. I prefer these simple days over any complications like we’ve known them.


The Tales of Mr. Bingley part 1

I feel like I owe you guys an explanation of what exactly happened to Mr. Bingley after I stopped blogging for a bit. The last bit you got from me and him was the money throwing part (which you can read back here), which was basically almost a year ago; so there’s a lot of gaps in the storyline to fill up. I will try to keep it short. Ha who am I kidding?

After the money throwing incident there was the Christmas social in which I was dressed up as an elf. Mr. Bingley and I left pretty early and went back to mine, once again we kissed but nothing really happened. I’m not sure why this kept happening, because I do believe we both wanted to take things further but I guess we were both scared. At this point I quite started to like Mr. Bingley and as we said goodbye the next morning, for we wouldn’t see each other over the Christmas period I was genuinely a bit sad.

What happened after the Christmas break was a bit odd. Basically I did not see him for over two months. He stopped going out and we both were too proud to text each other. Oh and what I forgot to mention was that he basically “borrowed” my sport trackies and my favourite hoodie after the Christmas special and never gave it back. Thus that was quite annoying.

It must’ve been the end of March when I finally bumped into him again on a night out. At this point I decided that the best thing to do was to just ignore him, but when I got home I received a text from him asking if I was angry with him. My housemate jumped in and took the phone away from me. Somehow this resulted in a very badly worded drunk text from me (a.k.a. my housemate) asking him out on a date. I couldn’t quite cope with the very possible rejection that was about to come my way so I tossed my phone across the room and went to bed. The next morning I woke up to a message from Mr. Bingley. “I would like to go for drinks soon, if you still want to. How about Friday?” I accepted and the date was set.

That Friday I found myself incredibly ill. I wasn’t quite sure whether this was my body telling me it was an incredibly bad idea to go for drinks with him or whether it was just bad luck, but some higher dating god did not want us to be together because I received this message from him late that afternoon. “Can we have drinks another time? Just found out I shouldn’t have been driving my car since November because my MOT ran out and my tax ran out today. How about Monday?” 

My friends and I basically couldn’t stop laughing after that text and it became an inside joke. But seriously though? If you think you’ve been pied off badly, remember me, who’s date has been canceled because of an expired MOT. Seriously though. Anyway, I received the hint and didn’t really bother with him anymore. So I sent him the following reply: “To be honest I think neither one of us is really fuzzed about drinks, so let’s just leave it with this.”  To which he responded with a casual “Fair enough”.  I know I am clearly not an expert in relationships or human contact, but I do know that most people will go after what they really want and a ‘fair enough’ seemed like he was fine with my decision.

I would’ve been happy to leave it with that, because at that point I really didn’t care about the whole affair. However, it did not end there.

Stay golden my little ponyboys and stay strong my fellow awkward-turtles out there,

Yours truly, Maple.