This next post isn’t a thing I’m particularly proud of in my life, but it does make for a good story apparently.
After a particularly messy “ship romance” with Peter (remember: the guy from the Netherlands) I was miserable and had one evening crying at the crew bar to one of my managers. From there I suddenly had an incredibly happy night out full of dancing and shots and pink wine. By the end of the evening I was on top of the world again and couldn’t care less about the boy from Neverland.
As I stumbled back to my cabin with James (who was technically my supervisor) he invited me into his cabin to watch some videos he had of a previous ships shows – once we had finished watching them we just sat and chatted about how I was finding working on a ship – then as I got up to leave he offered a proposition which made me laugh…
“If you ever get lonely and want some company, or a hug or just a kiss it doesn’t mean anything”
We then started to joke about how stupid that would be, for various reasons. The next thing I know he’s thrown his laptop to the end of the bed, said “oh fuck it” and we’re kissing. It was proper kissing, passionate fire-work inducing and completely wrong. I’ve never been kissed like that before and I hope beyond all manner of a doubt that I find someone who will kiss me like that again. It was completely perfect. Although there was just one teeny complicated hitch…
He was in a relationship. With another guy. Yes – the guy who gave me butterflies and fireworks was until that point unequivocally gay.
It’s ok though, because we didn’t have sex.
At least, not that night…
Bunk Beds & Break Waves. 