This is section 1 of the blog
It’s a Sunday.
I should be happier.
So there I was. I’m standing in field, in the beautiful Eastern Cape and there is, objectively, a very pretty woman standing very close to me.
I am on a date.
I am also moving rocks around in a derelict patch of bush near the freeway like a confused archaeologist searching for answers in all of the wrong places.
I am, for all intents, an insufferable romantic. Could this be it? A second date with my True Love, written in the stars?
I did not find what I was looking for that day.
I did not find True Love either.
I only found where it wasn’t. I guess sometimes that is all that you are getting.
But I am on a date.
But why am I doing that thing with the rocks in a field?
This is section 2
Miles says "I hate snakes"
But I am on a date.
But why am I doing that thing with the rocks in a field?
