Bikie Babe

About three hours after the not-boyfriend left my place last Sunday and I was just sitting down to dinner, his name appeared on my ringing mobile phone.

I picked it up and asked, ‘what do want?’ in a sarcastic tone.

A small female voice said, ‘this is Mary*, Bob^ has been in a motorbike accident.’

My heart and stomach hit the floor with a thud. The saliva dried in my mouth and I broke out in a cold sweat.

I asked, and feared the worse, ‘Is he OK?’

I was reassured he was, but neither the less I put my uneaten corn beef and pickle sandwich down, and called a taxi.

I spent the next four and half hours cradling his head and watching as he talked to himself in silence and occasionally let out a ‘fuckin’ hell’ and shook from shock. He had only one injury to speak of, a cut under his chin from the helmet strap that required two stitches. All bruising was invisible. But the hospital did x-rays and a CT when his pupils didn’t dilate, turned out to be concussion. I've been to see him twice this week after work and he's nearly stopped beating himself up about it.

The bike and the car he hit were write-offs.

But the whole thing showed me I do still have a heart and I can still give a damn. My recent playing around has had me doubting. Just because I haven’t fallen head over in heels in love with him, I still care. And frankly the thought that he might be badly injured or worse, dead, filled me with a dread that was almost too much to bear.


*name changed to protect the innocent
^name changed to protect the not so innocent

A Question of Manners, Conclusion

So it turns out the conversation about being honest with each other only sunk into my brain.

I asked if he was playing with anyone else he said no.

I said that as he travelled a long way to see me I would understand if he didn’t want to come anymore and he should just tell me. He agreed and said vice versa.

I told him that it was OK if he played local to him and if it turned into anything, I wouldn’t be upset, and that I would prefer he just told me instead of dropping of the face of the earth leaving to worry about fatal car accidents. He chuckled and agreed that was the polite thing to do.

This was about two weeks ago.

Yesterday, curiosity got the better of me and I visited his profile for the first time since we met. He hadn’t logged in for two weeks…my heart skipped.

Then I notice an UPDATE : I’m being trailed by a Domme so not looking anymore.

Well…I’ll be honest and admit I cried a bit. Then I called him all the names under the sun and asked the heavens why the f*ck I bothered having the conversation about honesty!

I’m not mad he found a Domme (good on him), but I’m severely pissed that he didn’t see fit to mention it considering the conversation we had maybe a mere two days before he updated his profile.