....when you know you're never going to get it back?

Steve phoned this morning needing money, so I transferred £200 to his account. Yes, I KNOW! But he has no family who will give him money, and he has no money at all until he gets paid on the 26th of this month. Meantime that was my iPod money, so if I get it back I'll buy my iPod, if not I won't. For now.

His lies have been finding him out again: he was considering asking Lauren's step-mum for the money, and I told him not to, because it would seem very weird and unattractive. Though I suspect he was only saying it to try to get me to agree to give him money instead (he needn't have bothered, I wouldn't see him penniless). He then said they were loaded, which was what I had suspected when I asked him once if he was keen on Lauren because she had a rich family (he showed me their house on the internet). He insisted that wasn't the reason, and that they didn't have money - they just rented their big fuck-off cottage, so I shouldn't judge by that.

The sooner this weekend comes the better, I'm getting well cheesed off with things. I'm starting to think he needs me far more than I need him - and not just for money - in fact primarily otherwise. I always used to wonder why he left it until so late to phone me - often after midnight even when he isn't working. But after last night's call I think he does it because he hopes I'll phone him first, and because he likes to speak to me before he goes to sleep. My loft is full of his stuff, and he's left things he really likes here, like his Predator model. I think he's hanging on every bit as much as me.

Another thing about the weekend - I can ask him questions and look for the face he does when he tells big lies. I'm not saying what it is - but I know it so well!

The £200 was the last bit of stupidity so far as I am concerned.