Bridget Jones....

This is a text that meant a lot a while ago... I just want to keep it here for the record...




Bridget Jones’s Diary

Pages 106 – 107

11:59 p.m. Blimey. Hiding in the kitchen having a fag. Daniel is asleep. Actually, I think he’s pretending to be asleep. Completely weird evening. Realized that our entire relationship so far has been based on the idea that one or other of us is supposed to be resisting having sex. Spending an evening together when the idea was that we were supposed to have sex at the end of it was nothing short of bizarre. We sat watching VE Day on television with Daniel’s arm uncomfortably round my shoulders as if we were two fourteen-year-olds in the cinema. It was really digging into the back of my neck but I didn’t feel I could ask him to move it. Then when it was getting impossible to avoid the subject of bedtime any longer we went all formal and English. Instead of tearing each other’s clothes off like beasts, we stood there going, “Do use the bathroom first.”
“No! After you!”
“No, no, no! After you!”
“Really! I insist.”
“No, no, I won’t hear of it. Let me find you a guest towel and some miniature seashell-shaped soaps.”
Then we ended up lying side by side and not touching, like we were Laurel and Hardy on holiday. If there is a God I would like to humbly ask Him – whilst making it clear that I am deeply grateful for His suddenly turning Daniel inexplicably into a regular feature after so much fuckwittage – to stop him getting into bed at night wearing pajamas and reading glasses, staring at a book for twenty-five minutes then switching off the light and turning over – and turn him back into the naked lust-crazed sex beast I used to know and love.
Thanking you for your kind attention, Lord, regarding this matter.