I am a young woman with big dreams for my life. I believe strongly in the power of God. I yearn to see God's hand at work in the world at large, and in the immediate society around me. I am currently working on a number of business initiatives and Christian ministry initiatives. However, I am finding myself distracted by dreamy thoughts of my flatmate, who is not a Christian...
I felt so feminine and sophisticated. I wore a white shirt blouse with flowing white trousers, accessorised with those black patent leather heels and black faux patent leather bag, finished with gold jewellery and that same gold/yellow eyeshadow and nail-varnish of the previous two days, plus a full head of hair, not hidden behind headties this time.
At D's corner there was a half-eaten plate of some sort of bean stew, which had also been there the previous day when I got back from the fellowship, along with his washing up. So for some reason he had not been in such a hurry to wash up yesterday after I had left the house, and he had clearly not felt the urge to do it this morning either.
Sunday 09 March
This week, I made sure that I was dressed for church before going downstairs for breakfast. I was wearing a green-themed outfit, with a green and white top, smart black skirt, black suit jacket, green glass bead jewellery and matching green eye-shadow and nail-varnish. On my feet I was wearing moderate heels, open-toed to show off my varnished toe-nails.
It seemed as if D was being exaggeratedly lovey-dovey. He would take K in his arms, and speak softly to her. He would kiss her as they were cooking together, stroke her beautiful hair. In fact, he kissed her several times in quick succession. It seemed very different from what had happened on Friday – almost as if he himself had thought over what had happened that day...
Well this is the day that I actually came back to the house, after being away for the preceding days in February and a couple of days in January too. I got into the house at just after 5pm, and briefly unpacked a few items, put things away in the kitchen. I know that this is sad, but I was hanging around a little in the kitchen to see whether he would come in. He didn't.
While down in London, I sat down thinking through various things. It was there that I started writing down everything, posting and publishing this series. Looking back over what had happened in our interaction to date, I realised that I still cared about him, or at least I wanted to care. Yes, the girlfriend thing was exceedingly painful, and as a person, I have so much pride...
...But then it occurred to me that this effort he was making for this woman was relatively cheap: a matter of spending some money, cooking some meals. Once he had comprehensively won her he would simply revert to being his usual self; getting overly drunk, carelessly leaving his dirty plates lying around. The effort I would require from him would amount to a whole change of nature...
Is it necessary for me to discuss her physical attributes? Oh, very well then. She has beautiful, long, straight mahogany hair, reaching to halfway between her shoulder and her waist. She is quite small and petite, with a classic hourglass figure; small waist, full bust and hips. I also noticed when she spoke that she has great teeth, very straight, clean and white.
I explained that I had loved going to see him, and he had been so cute back then. I actually used the word cute. I found this so embarrassing, that, much to my regret, I was too shy to look at him, but I could only look forward, away from him. How dangerous it would have been to look into his eyes! That was to be the last time that he would thank me for coming to visit him in hospital.
...when I and another flatmate were talking together in the kitchen, the door opened, and in he entered, slowly, limping with the aid of a crutch, with a thick growth of facial hair masking his usually clean-shaven features. He looked so different that I only knew it was him because I knew it had to be him and no-one else; I would not have recognised him in the street.
He was the one to actually open the door to me when I first moved in. On that particular day he was wearing a white singlet which adequately displayed his pumped up chest. I distinctly remember that the very first thing I thought about him was "Hmm, cute!". I explained that I was the new flatmate. At this he said nothing at all. He merely turned away and went back up the stairs
I am extremely careful with guys generally. I have a few "guy rules" designed to help me avoid situations of sexual temptation with men. Most of these are about avoiding situations of being alone with men. I am so mindful that it is so easy to make a mistake with a man that could then completely change the course of your life.
I was amazed that this was my flatmate. He was behaving so adorably, where "adorable" would previously have been the last word I would have used to describe him. And then to my great shame, I found my eyes being drawn to his muscular chest, now covered by a hospital gown. For some reason I just could not stop staring at that chest.
Dear Reader, I guess it would be worthwhile to give you a background to all of this, how we fell for one another. I know that if you don't know the story it might sound a little presumptuous of me to state so bluntly that he likes me, especially now that he has a new girlfriend. Why don't I spell out exactly what happened, so you can draw your own conclusions?! So this is how it all started.
I am a woman who is very very Christian, very very single and very very lonely. And then there's this guy. In many ways he is compellingly attractive. He is also very very single and very very lonely. However, he is not a Christian at all. To make matters worse, he is actually my flatmate. Despite our best efforts we have totally fallen for one another. My name is Junia, welcome to my world.