Mia wasn’t the only one either. It was as though these white girls knew he was only allowed to marry a Moslem and deliberately flaunted the forbidde... fruit in front of his face!He worried about his clothes. He’d thought his chinos, shirt and jacket were fine until Mia had turned up in that blue outfit, looking as though she’d come for a photoshoot - either to be the model, or to direct it telling everyone what to do!But Paul had been in his completely slobby kit and somehow that hadn’t mattered. I keep playing through what I did or where I went wrong but I keep coming blank then swap into these horrible bouts of self-loathing for not doing better at whatever the fuck was wrong. I keep thinking of him too. What he might be doing right now and constantly wondering if he is thinking of me at all. If he even cares about me to begin with? Etc, etc, etc. Insert standard sadness shit here, blah... As you know, I struggle with trying to distract myself with other tasks or activities that might. More

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