My own enemy

It is really frustrating:

I am feeling a bit lonely, an I am daft in the head so I've been laying about watching this old show called Doctor Who. It is si-fi shwo about a alien time traveler name 'the doctor' and a london girl named Rose. Except that I am now watching the second season and they are going with this depressing theme of the Doctor not really loving Rose or maybe leaving her when she so obviously loves him, which is odd because before they were not in love. and they keep exposing the doctor as a guy who loves them and then leaves them. So that got me in this mood and I was listening to all these London accents on the show and I suddenly thought about the man I slept with in London. His name was Joe.

I was staying at Earl's Court (South Kensington, I believe) and there was the Irish Pub called O'Neill's down the street on the corner and it is all blue on the outside. I sat down in the mostly empty place, it was May 30th which wasn't anything special I think and then all these people start sitting at the table I am at. Turns out some photography website on-line meets once a year and I happened to be at the table they planned to met at in the pub they planned to meet at. and so on. But since they are all Internet buddies and don't know what their friends look like in the real world they had no idea (at first) that I wasn't just another member of their group. This guy Joe is the first to talk to me, and he ends up talking to me all night. The name of their group sounded vaguely dirty so at first I thought I walked into something weird but they were all really fun.

The thing is the next morning I decided I never ever wanted to try to look him up. I have a bad habit of getting attached to just about anything. Heck, I looked up and wanted to befriend via facebook this guy I slept with in Santa Cruz. I don't remember much of that meeting, but another story for another day.

So I sabotaged myself. All I wrote in my Journal is that I met Joe in a pub and came home around 6am. There was loads more to that story and the details are all slippery and I can't remember them. I figured out the pub because I used Google Maps, it was only down the street from my hostel. But that leads me to why do I even care? This guy was a one night stand and I'll never talk to him again.

Well, I'll post the full story of him later and maybe you can tell me why I have a soft spot for that memory. I think I already know.

Edit: the story of Joe is here but his whole "fair enough" thing made me crack up laughing every time someone said that ever after (which is alot in Europe).