But.

So, Geraint got back from York on Monday and spent the rest of the day with me. Afternoon sex, and deciding against a movie because Swansea hasn't got Serenity yet. Pool and Guinness in the Bryn; music and Guinness at the Uplands Tavern; and cheap girly vodka drinks and dancing to rock & roll at Envy til two in the morning. There was hand holding and drunken frolicking and so much dancing, and I feel comfortable with him, and little tummy-tickling feelings when I look at him and I had an wonderful, awesome night.

But.

But I just don't think it's any more than that.

Which may be due to the fact that I'll only see him once or twice a month between now and Christmas, and the knowledge that ultimately I'm going to be moving on in February. Or it may be because he reminds me too much of the boys I used to go to school with, and I've just moved on from there. Or maybe we just don't have a strong enough connection.

But he's lovely. He's caring, and intelligent, and considerate and light-hearted and good-humoured, and so far I've had nothing but a good time with him. And really that's all that matters, right? And in consideration of the fact that we're hardly going to see each other, its a good thing that I haven't fallen head over heals for him, isn't it? I think I've finally made it the place where I want to keep it casual and I'm happy with that.

A friend, to help me explore Wales, and certain parts of its culture.