Irish Shag
I went to Dublin last summer and fucked the violinist from Temple bar.
I divorced my husband half a year ago and Connell was the first guy I got with since him. A stone on the side of the road put in more effort than my ex husband. We were married for eight years and instead of enjoying my twenties single, jumping naked into the mediterranean ocean with strangers like my friends did, I spent time being tucked up in bed at 9am with a shit cup of tea (because my husband preferred Tetley tea bags to Yorkshire).
Twenty eight, two years away from thirty, I hit my quarter life crisis late and thought it time to take life into my own hands. I came back from work one day in January, said this marriage wasn’t working and rented out a flat in Newcastle with a roommate that actually came to be one of my best friends.
A good looking Irish man always had the world tipping off its axis for me. It’s everything I was always looking for in a man so when I laid eyes on Connel in Temple Bar, my guardian angels were singing.
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