My secret husband

We went to see the wonderful Josh Ritter last night, otherwise referred to as "my secret husband"**. The 'secret' part of that phrase is key, Josh himself is completely unaware of my undying love. I like to think this makes it all the more romantic- shakespearean type love- the unrequited kind. 

Anyhow, it's rather tragic the amount of Josh's gigs I've been too and up until now I've cunningly avoided taking Fergal (my actual manfriend) with me- I couldn't risk him cramping my style if Josh spotted me. This time however I voluntarily offered him a ticket. What can I say, I must be getting kinda fond of him. 

As usual Josh crooned and I swooned and although Fergal typically doesn't pay a blind bit of notice, he did himself admit to actually questioning his own sexuality a few times that night. Josh Ritter, a man who can whisper sweet nothings into a crowd of hundreds and make everyone feel like it's solely directed at them, men and women alike. Now that's special. 

**reference only ever made by me. 
ps: check out the unimpressed expression on the randomer behind Fergal. I may or may not have been singing along too loudly.