Back in the beginning of November, before the exciting days of Father Christmas, and the opportunity to
Despite the fact I had a niggling feeling that it might be a wind up (let's be honest, I'm hardly recipient-of-romantic-gesture material), I was absolutely delighted that someone had taken my personality into so much consideration, and turned an otherwise plain postcard into a quirky, mysterious, thoughtful gift, that kept me entertained for weeks. After all, if Mr not-so-mysterious-anymore had actually put his name on the postcard, I wouldn't have had so much fun starring in my very own Sherlock Holmes movie, trying to work out the identity of my secret admirer. (Think squinty, inspector style glances at the guys at work, writing lists of potential suspects, and cross referencing evidence from my shoebox of romance).
I'll take this chance to clarify first and fore-mostly, that it wasn't Ryan Reynolds, and although this was perhaps a slight disappointment, I will take comfort in the fact that I have mentioned him in my letter to Santa, and therefore am guaranteed a date with him some time within the next 365 days.
It was in fact from Suspect No.1, the relative of my friend that I used to consider one of the most important people in my life. I wish I could say that I'd found out through endless hours of scrutiny and investigation (I do quite fancy myself as a Mrs Holmes), however it was actually further post and a text message that sealed the deal.
Last week, I received a very quirky looking brown envelope the size of the palm of my hand. The second that I saw it, I just knew it was the Sidmouth postcard sequel, and found myself tearing it open and blushing like I'd just been caught doing the Rumba naked with a can of crushed pineapple. I can't remember exactly what it said, but it was something along the lines of 'I still can't get you out of my mind. I hope it's driving you crazy not knowing who this is.' After 5 minutes of the naked Rumba act, I decided that yes, it was driving me crazy not knowing who it was, and my mind began to convince me that it wasn't a genuinely lovely guy trying to get my attention, but instead a psycho stalker who was desperate to get into my bedroom, rub my pillowcase over his chest, and sniff my lacy knickers.
I therefore sent Suspect No.1 a message, asking him to put me out of my misery and tell me whether it was him or not, and within a couple of hours, I had a witty reply full of implication that it was. He'd obviously decided to reassure me that no-one was going to break into my house, which I also felt was very kind of him, particularly because even admitting it was him in the first place must have been a pretty hard feat. Things didn't end brilliantly with us, and if I'm honest, I didn't think I'd ever hear from him again. However, don't get me wrong, I'm pleased that I have. We used to have some amazing chinwags, and although there may have been chemistry, that didn't quite work out, he was a great friend, and the thought of having him back in my life is an exciting one.
So there we have it, my mystery is solved! If anyone else would like to start sending me mystery mail instead, that would be delightful! There's nothing quite like it!
I hope you've all had a lovely weekend. Only 7 days to go until the big event now- how very exciting is that! Lots of love and hugs to you all!