My timing really sucks.

This girl - let's call her Mary - came to stay with me at my new university this weekend. Finally I acted on something I've felt for the longest time and kissed her. She kissed me back; we spent the rest of the weekend together.

You should know some stuff about Mary. She is entirely lovely. Her best bits are her eyes, and she is maybe the sweetest natured person who cares most about the fate of the world in general that I know. Also, she is the most touchingly vulnerable and open-hearted person in the universe. She is extremely intelligent and extremely pretty. Actually, the specifics might be better left up to you. Just imagine someone lovely. She's probably less lovely than Mary.

So. Naturally I'm elated. Except -whoops! - I chose to kiss her for the first time less than a week before she leaves the country for a very long time. She's going away on her gap year for not eight days, or weeks, or even fortnights, but eight months. This is about 245 days. This is ages, in my book.

Mary is off to Australia for three months, where she will doubtless meet loads of people called Brad; and then to Russia for five, which is by all accounts brimming over with people called Vlad. I'm entirely realistic and don't expect her to be celibate off the back of a twenty-four hour relationship, just as I think it's fairly unlikely that I won't move on a bit in my first year at university. But now I know she likes me I'm so incredibly fucking frustrated - this could have happened months ago.

I feel in a very odd mood. I'm pinching myself about the fact that the perfect girl thinks I'm pretty neat too - she likes me! she likes me!; I'm punching myself about the fact that she's going to be on the opposite side of the world consorting with surfers. But there are good things.

The best of which is that she's coming to the same college at the same university as me in a year's time. Hooray! So perhaps something will happen then. Also, at least we don't have enough of a relationship for there to be serious emotional issues about what best to do for the next year.

Still - the tortuous thought continues to run through my head that twenty four hours ago she was lying next to me half-asleep with her extarordinarily pretty head on my big tough masculine chest (pfft) and right now - she isn't. She won't be for quite a long time.

What self-indulgent crap. But I couldn't concentrate. (How is one meant to write two thousand words on Dr Faustus when one is lovelorn?) I'm done now. Your brief insight into my fascinating life is finished, and will hopefully not resume at any point (for both your sake and mine).