Whilst I'm waiting, I wonder if I should write about where I am, and why I am waiting. So far I'm unresolved, but as I wonder let me type away and see how far I get.
As I left things with you, I was certain that The Conversation was long overdue. I was right, without really knowing I'd slowly pushed a series of buttons that resulted in the most explosive of evenings. We drank, we chatted, we critiqued the woman in the cheap red shoes who subconsciously reached down to stroke her leg each time she felt the conflict of flirting with her male companion too much to bear.
Her male companion, we surmised, was married and a colleague, or possibly her boss, we both sensed a conflict of emotion - in hindsight I wonder if we projected our own feelings, as ever in tandem, onto her. At some point I made a comment which saw Mr Magic disappear in a puff of smoke that stung my eyes so much I cried all of the way home and when he eventually reappeared we talked in earnest. We talked and we talked and we talked for hours, roughly covering all topics you'd expect of The Conversation.
He said this, I said that and quite soon we were back to the lovely place we curiously left in December as it became horribly clear that we both wanted the same thing, but were also both idiots, saboteurs and gloriously in-lust with each other. We still need to talk more, but for now that has to wait as he's flown half way around the world to spend a fortnight's holiday with his other women. Yes ... quite.
This is Her, the woman with whom I share taste in men, a mutual loathing and absolutely nothing else. She is still away on a long term overseas assignment, so this will be the first time they've seen each other in six months - I wonder if anything will be different between them. I wonder if she'll notice that he has new underwear?
So yet again we have Him, we have Her and we have me who, for now, will wait, and try not to wonder too much.
Saturday 27 March 2010
Friday 5 March 2010
Mr Quilted Jacket
There's a man I see almost every morning who is striking. Tall, Dark and Handsome & he wears a quilted jacket. That would be the sum total of what I know of him.
Technically I know more, but I'd argue it's circumstantial. We board the same train every day, he stands at the same point on the platform every day, and when my eyes flicker over him as I stroll past him each morning I've learnt he looks grumpy and stern every single day. I've observed his lovely long legs and no wedding ring.
He's the type of man who I wonder if he'll prolong his gaze long enough to let me smile at him, and I wonder if he'd smile back. Not for any particular reason, but I think he has a lovely face so he must have a lovely smile too?!
This evening he was an unusual (for the return journey) but a welcome distraction. The Conversation with Mr Magic is getting closer which means I'm revisiting the vicious circle of "I can do it", "I can't do it", "I can do it", I don't want to do it", "I can do it", "I'll just leave it a little while longer ...". Distractions are thus required.
So, so far we have Mr Quilted Jacket at an ungodly hour on the station platform, the prospect of sighting Mr Daniel Craig on the Tube journey, and Mr Cute, Tall but has turned up trousers (I'll have to think of a better moniker!) to accompany me from the Tube to the office. The latter I like because he's cute and tall, so tall that even in heels I have to turn my head skywards to smile at him which in turn makes me feel very girly and then makes me laugh! Add to that the not-even-vaguely-unattractive boss and you see I've now got a thoroughfare of good looking men to distract me throughout the day away from Mr Magic.
This is a good thing, even if it does involve a quilted jacket :-)
Technically I know more, but I'd argue it's circumstantial. We board the same train every day, he stands at the same point on the platform every day, and when my eyes flicker over him as I stroll past him each morning I've learnt he looks grumpy and stern every single day. I've observed his lovely long legs and no wedding ring.
He's the type of man who I wonder if he'll prolong his gaze long enough to let me smile at him, and I wonder if he'd smile back. Not for any particular reason, but I think he has a lovely face so he must have a lovely smile too?!
This evening he was an unusual (for the return journey) but a welcome distraction. The Conversation with Mr Magic is getting closer which means I'm revisiting the vicious circle of "I can do it", "I can't do it", "I can do it", I don't want to do it", "I can do it", "I'll just leave it a little while longer ...". Distractions are thus required.
So, so far we have Mr Quilted Jacket at an ungodly hour on the station platform, the prospect of sighting Mr Daniel Craig on the Tube journey, and Mr Cute, Tall but has turned up trousers (I'll have to think of a better moniker!) to accompany me from the Tube to the office. The latter I like because he's cute and tall, so tall that even in heels I have to turn my head skywards to smile at him which in turn makes me feel very girly and then makes me laugh! Add to that the not-even-vaguely-unattractive boss and you see I've now got a thoroughfare of good looking men to distract me throughout the day away from Mr Magic.
This is a good thing, even if it does involve a quilted jacket :-)
Tuesday 2 March 2010
Hot Cockles suffers a Hiatus
I am not a poet, a writer or an artist. I am not a scholar, a critic or a connoisseur. I am simply a person who enjoys, appreciates and quite often finds myself lost in the expression of others.
If you haven't read it before, or for a while, I'd recommend obtaining a copy of Alice in Wonderland. It is quite possibly the most absurd book I've read, and one of the few that has never ending appeal and enjoyment contained within it's precious pages. If there were ever an expressive piece to challenge your imagination, this is it.
There are many other books, works of art and pieces of poetry that I'd recommend given half the chance. Today, I'll settle with sharing a poem I earlier happened upon whilst looking for inspiration in a book of poetry that resides on my desk. As much as I'd like to write about what's on my mind, what I'd like to do now, what I can't understand and what I'd like to happen next it's nothing that hasn't already been said.
This, however, is a shortened version of where I am right now:
"The day he moved out was terrible -
That evening she went through hell.
His absence wasn't a problem
But the corkscrew was gone as well."
- Loss, by Wendy Cope
If you haven't read it before, or for a while, I'd recommend obtaining a copy of Alice in Wonderland. It is quite possibly the most absurd book I've read, and one of the few that has never ending appeal and enjoyment contained within it's precious pages. If there were ever an expressive piece to challenge your imagination, this is it.
There are many other books, works of art and pieces of poetry that I'd recommend given half the chance. Today, I'll settle with sharing a poem I earlier happened upon whilst looking for inspiration in a book of poetry that resides on my desk. As much as I'd like to write about what's on my mind, what I'd like to do now, what I can't understand and what I'd like to happen next it's nothing that hasn't already been said.
This, however, is a shortened version of where I am right now:
"The day he moved out was terrible -
That evening she went through hell.
His absence wasn't a problem
But the corkscrew was gone as well."
- Loss, by Wendy Cope
Saturday 13 February 2010
34 seconds
Me: Hi! How are you?
Him: Fine thanks, you?
Me: Good thanks ... hang on a minute, I'm just trying to figure out where I am [insert waffle about where I'm trying to get to as I temporarily suffer geographical ambiguity] ... are you still in town?
Him: No, I'm at home.
Me: Oh, that's a shame - I thought if you were still in town we could meet up for a coffee.
Him: Well I'm at home, so I can't. I'll speak to you later. Bye.
Me: Ok then. Bye.
My tone was cheery, deliberately so, and his was blunt and cold. I checked my call log, it took 34 seconds.
As I hung up the phone I laughed out loud - how rude! Over the following half hour I momentarily considered that something may be seriously wrong, perhaps he'd suffered a trauma? In the current climate, where modern telecommunication enables instant access to anything and anyone I believe it also enables choice - answer the phone, don't answer, reply, don't reply. I also consider bad manners shocking, downright rude and mostly wholly unnecessary.
Upon returning home I read a newly purchased book cover to cover, uninterrupted, which felt like a luxury ... but I'd much rather have been interrupted. I'm getting the distinct impression he's pissed off with me because of what happened yesterday, but I don't really believe he has legitimate cause. He's ambivalent about seeing me and I plan my time, he doesn't - so on this we clash.
Yesterday I thought it might be a good idea to have 'the conversation' face to face so invited him to join me for lunch today, Saturday, which he eventually accepted, and in very positive terms too. Unfortunately he took so long to accept I'd gotten bored and invited someone else - operating a first come, first served principle I then had to inform him that he was too slow so I couldn't see him after all. His response was to inform me that actually he was double booked so couldn't have met me anyway ... I replied that although a moot point I was sorry for the double booking, but that I hoped he enjoyed his lunch appointment.
With that in mind, re-read the 34 second conversation. Was it necessary for him to all but hang up on me? No. Did he stop to ask how my lunch was? No. Has he since been in contact? No. Do we think he deserves to be told to fuck off, grow some balls and leave me alone? Yes. Will he be told that? No. Because I have better manners and will not play him with the same cards he's dealt me ...
Him: Fine thanks, you?
Me: Good thanks ... hang on a minute, I'm just trying to figure out where I am [insert waffle about where I'm trying to get to as I temporarily suffer geographical ambiguity] ... are you still in town?
Him: No, I'm at home.
Me: Oh, that's a shame - I thought if you were still in town we could meet up for a coffee.
Him: Well I'm at home, so I can't. I'll speak to you later. Bye.
Me: Ok then. Bye.
My tone was cheery, deliberately so, and his was blunt and cold. I checked my call log, it took 34 seconds.
As I hung up the phone I laughed out loud - how rude! Over the following half hour I momentarily considered that something may be seriously wrong, perhaps he'd suffered a trauma? In the current climate, where modern telecommunication enables instant access to anything and anyone I believe it also enables choice - answer the phone, don't answer, reply, don't reply. I also consider bad manners shocking, downright rude and mostly wholly unnecessary.
Upon returning home I read a newly purchased book cover to cover, uninterrupted, which felt like a luxury ... but I'd much rather have been interrupted. I'm getting the distinct impression he's pissed off with me because of what happened yesterday, but I don't really believe he has legitimate cause. He's ambivalent about seeing me and I plan my time, he doesn't - so on this we clash.
Yesterday I thought it might be a good idea to have 'the conversation' face to face so invited him to join me for lunch today, Saturday, which he eventually accepted, and in very positive terms too. Unfortunately he took so long to accept I'd gotten bored and invited someone else - operating a first come, first served principle I then had to inform him that he was too slow so I couldn't see him after all. His response was to inform me that actually he was double booked so couldn't have met me anyway ... I replied that although a moot point I was sorry for the double booking, but that I hoped he enjoyed his lunch appointment.
With that in mind, re-read the 34 second conversation. Was it necessary for him to all but hang up on me? No. Did he stop to ask how my lunch was? No. Has he since been in contact? No. Do we think he deserves to be told to fuck off, grow some balls and leave me alone? Yes. Will he be told that? No. Because I have better manners and will not play him with the same cards he's dealt me ...
Thursday 11 February 2010
Advice
I've only ever received two pieces of advice regarding relationships, one apiece, from the two members of my family that I'm closest to, and who I respect without regard;
"Don't compare men to your father, because they'll never live up to your expectations" - this was from my Grandma, my beloved fathers' mother. She knew I doted on him, and I still do so I took her advice and have never looked back. I wonder what she would say to me now that I've met someone who I've never compared to my father, but who is uncannily similar?
"Never go back: what broke you up the first time, will break you up a second" - this was from my beloved father who has poor choice in women and I think has now learnt his lesson. I've always half heartily agreed with him, but deep down I understand. This may well be what is contributing to my uncharacteristic inability to call things off with the Magician. If I walk away now, is that it, have i been too hasty, will I regret it, it is the right decision?
For all of the pearls of wisdom my friends have imparted upon me over the years, these two stand above them all. I don't compare him to my father, but he's so very much like him I almost can't bear it. I don't want to break up with him because I know as we continue to bounce off of each other, the same issues will arise all over again. I can hear the death knell tolling ....
"Don't compare men to your father, because they'll never live up to your expectations" - this was from my Grandma, my beloved fathers' mother. She knew I doted on him, and I still do so I took her advice and have never looked back. I wonder what she would say to me now that I've met someone who I've never compared to my father, but who is uncannily similar?
"Never go back: what broke you up the first time, will break you up a second" - this was from my beloved father who has poor choice in women and I think has now learnt his lesson. I've always half heartily agreed with him, but deep down I understand. This may well be what is contributing to my uncharacteristic inability to call things off with the Magician. If I walk away now, is that it, have i been too hasty, will I regret it, it is the right decision?
For all of the pearls of wisdom my friends have imparted upon me over the years, these two stand above them all. I don't compare him to my father, but he's so very much like him I almost can't bear it. I don't want to break up with him because I know as we continue to bounce off of each other, the same issues will arise all over again. I can hear the death knell tolling ....
Lovlier and lovlier
Let me introduce you to someone new - he's called Lovely. He'd dispute that moniker, and I could think of many others that are more witty or engaging, but lovely is how I think of him so it shall stand. He is without doubt one of my very best friends, and I his because above all else we understand each other in a way that is inexplicable to others, and because we are both so very narcissistic in that the main reason we like each other is because we are each other ... oh, and we also have the same taste in men, which is frustrating but not unexpected.
Lovely is a long time friend, a male version of me, and I a female version of him. I forget that when I describe him, else I would appear vain, but he really is lovely - a heart of gold hidden behind a wall of steel that is adorned with lots of sparkly things and a couple of jiggly things that make him aloof but fun! When I told him about Mr Magic, and how he leaves me sockless, he didn't take to him - mainly because I said he was like a male version of me, and thus like Lovely himself ... in retrospect, I'm not sure why he took exception to him.
This morning I met Mr Magic for a coffee before work - the convoluted manner in which we got there may be explained in another post as it almost defies belief, but nevertheless, I woke at 5am, caught an early train and as we walked through the door of my favourite coffee shop there was Lovely in the queue. I didn't recognise him at first, he'd pulled me aside and kissed me before I'd figured out who he was, but as soon as I introduced him to Mr Magic I felt a whole new world open up before me. Comparisons are pointless as they fulfill different roles in my life, but it was most interesting to observe: I took charge of the conversation, naturally, Lovely did a superb job in being aloof and charming ... and the Magician? Well, it's as if he disappeared into thin air!
Lovely informs me that Magic man avoided eye contact with him, and that he didn't appear talkative - and I concur. Was he threatened? Did he see the glint in our eyes, the smile on our faces? Was our inexplicable ability to have a conversation without talking too much for him? I know not, but Lovely rushed off so we had our coffee, we asked each other how we were, we passed enough time until it was time for me to excuse myself.
A month ago I'd have lingered until the last possible minute, gazed into his eyes across the table and he would have stretched out a leg and wrapped it around my ankle. As we walked to the point we would part we passed the time of day, as he leaned in to kiss me goodbye I steered him to my cheek. This lead to a clash of lips I've not experienced since my age was suffixed with 'teen' .... not daring to make eye contact I breezily cheered 'see you later', and walked swiftly on, not looking back.
The rest of my journey was punctuated with suppressed amusement - I'm bored! How funny! Is it seeing him next to Lovely? I doubt it, in any case comparisons are grossly unfair, but something amused me for the remainder of the day. I've moved from feeling as if the bottom of my world has fallen out, to feeling as if I've gotten my feet stuck in the glue that has secured it back into place. And that, in case there is any doubt, is what I call progress ...
Lovely is a long time friend, a male version of me, and I a female version of him. I forget that when I describe him, else I would appear vain, but he really is lovely - a heart of gold hidden behind a wall of steel that is adorned with lots of sparkly things and a couple of jiggly things that make him aloof but fun! When I told him about Mr Magic, and how he leaves me sockless, he didn't take to him - mainly because I said he was like a male version of me, and thus like Lovely himself ... in retrospect, I'm not sure why he took exception to him.
This morning I met Mr Magic for a coffee before work - the convoluted manner in which we got there may be explained in another post as it almost defies belief, but nevertheless, I woke at 5am, caught an early train and as we walked through the door of my favourite coffee shop there was Lovely in the queue. I didn't recognise him at first, he'd pulled me aside and kissed me before I'd figured out who he was, but as soon as I introduced him to Mr Magic I felt a whole new world open up before me. Comparisons are pointless as they fulfill different roles in my life, but it was most interesting to observe: I took charge of the conversation, naturally, Lovely did a superb job in being aloof and charming ... and the Magician? Well, it's as if he disappeared into thin air!
Lovely informs me that Magic man avoided eye contact with him, and that he didn't appear talkative - and I concur. Was he threatened? Did he see the glint in our eyes, the smile on our faces? Was our inexplicable ability to have a conversation without talking too much for him? I know not, but Lovely rushed off so we had our coffee, we asked each other how we were, we passed enough time until it was time for me to excuse myself.
A month ago I'd have lingered until the last possible minute, gazed into his eyes across the table and he would have stretched out a leg and wrapped it around my ankle. As we walked to the point we would part we passed the time of day, as he leaned in to kiss me goodbye I steered him to my cheek. This lead to a clash of lips I've not experienced since my age was suffixed with 'teen' .... not daring to make eye contact I breezily cheered 'see you later', and walked swiftly on, not looking back.
The rest of my journey was punctuated with suppressed amusement - I'm bored! How funny! Is it seeing him next to Lovely? I doubt it, in any case comparisons are grossly unfair, but something amused me for the remainder of the day. I've moved from feeling as if the bottom of my world has fallen out, to feeling as if I've gotten my feet stuck in the glue that has secured it back into place. And that, in case there is any doubt, is what I call progress ...
Wednesday 3 February 2010
Swearing is apparently reserved for those who can't express themselves properly ... let me be one of those people
Fuck me! I've never been blown off before, and I mean in the theoretical sense! On Monday he's citing being too busy with training and cake baking this whole week he can only see me for lunch on Wednesday (essential background: apparently working from home last week when I invited him for a drink after work, and too busy baking cakes for a cake sale to see me after work this Friday which was my only other option) so two weeks have passed since I last saw him - as this isn't supposed to be an affair, it does seem a bit odd he's not champing at the bit to see me, given his professed passion for all things Hot Cockles.
It's not the end of the world, but bear with me here. This morning he sent me an early morning text message apologising but informing me that he can't meet me for lunch as he's ill and has to stay at home to go to the Doctors. So far, so fair ... until I called him to see how he'd gotten on, and how he was. Nothing unreasonable there (though note he didn't call when I was ill last week, though to be fair he did offer me a delivery of home made soup which never transpired, but to be fair again, I was out of the office which was a main contributory factor In the non-delivery). He's not ill, he has an ailment, an infection, one that did not stop him going to the gym this morning, but still, in my book that deserves a degree of sympathy.
It's Wednesday right? That's two days after Monday, the Monday he says he has too much on to see me ... and now he says actually it's ok, because he was planning on taking a few days off this week. For what, I've no idea, and at this moment, I care not one bit as it was not followed with 'Would you like to ...". I say cunt! Not to him (as that would be distasteful!) but I say it to you.
Now, I know how full my diary is, how he severely dislikes planning, how he says he wants to see me when time allows etc etc etc ... so it's not likely without a bit of planning that I will see him ... can you see why I'm getting bored?!! We're back to him being a spineless idiot, too concerned with piffling and paffling his way through conversations rather than acting like the grown man that he is. Is it really too much to expect him to make reference to rearranging, or to feeling a tiny bit of sorrow he won't be seeing me? Clearly, yes, and so be it.
I'm back to holding my head in my hands in despair, mentally resolving to move on but in reality feeling like the bottom has fallen out of my world. On the way home this evening I was as close to tears as I ever get, not because he'd blustered his way through keeping me at a distance, making it clear he won't be better until at least Monday (newsflash - I'm at a wedding this weekend, trade fair next week, not free until next Saturday but as he doesn't ask, he doesn't know), but because it's getting so clear to me that I need to have "The Conversation" with him.
I don't like being handled at all. I've accepted a middle ground with him, I don't object when he makes attempts to handle me, to manage my expectations in such a fashion, and nor do I accept them, but I have a threshold and he has just reached it. I almost feel proud it's gone over my normal three month mark, but really, I should have grown out of that by now so it's nothing to be proud of.
In case my obscene rant isn't quite clear enough; What a fucking idiot he is! Is he trying to play me? Who the fuck knows. I may love, in the most platonic sense, the man he is, and how he makes me feel, but as he is right now, he's not good enough. I have learnt from past mistakes, made it clear as I can that I want to see him, how I want to see him and he fails to respond in an acceptable fashion. So for now, I have no other way to describe him other than to say he is a cunt.
NB: If it wasn't for the second day in a row early morning encounter and then, as special bonus, an evening encounter on the tube with Mr Daniel Craig (no, not the real one, just a delectable man who conjures the 'emerging from the sea in tiny blue shorts' scene), I may have lost all faith in attractive men. For the record, that would be a disaster!!
It's not the end of the world, but bear with me here. This morning he sent me an early morning text message apologising but informing me that he can't meet me for lunch as he's ill and has to stay at home to go to the Doctors. So far, so fair ... until I called him to see how he'd gotten on, and how he was. Nothing unreasonable there (though note he didn't call when I was ill last week, though to be fair he did offer me a delivery of home made soup which never transpired, but to be fair again, I was out of the office which was a main contributory factor In the non-delivery). He's not ill, he has an ailment, an infection, one that did not stop him going to the gym this morning, but still, in my book that deserves a degree of sympathy.
It's Wednesday right? That's two days after Monday, the Monday he says he has too much on to see me ... and now he says actually it's ok, because he was planning on taking a few days off this week. For what, I've no idea, and at this moment, I care not one bit as it was not followed with 'Would you like to ...". I say cunt! Not to him (as that would be distasteful!) but I say it to you.
Now, I know how full my diary is, how he severely dislikes planning, how he says he wants to see me when time allows etc etc etc ... so it's not likely without a bit of planning that I will see him ... can you see why I'm getting bored?!! We're back to him being a spineless idiot, too concerned with piffling and paffling his way through conversations rather than acting like the grown man that he is. Is it really too much to expect him to make reference to rearranging, or to feeling a tiny bit of sorrow he won't be seeing me? Clearly, yes, and so be it.
I'm back to holding my head in my hands in despair, mentally resolving to move on but in reality feeling like the bottom has fallen out of my world. On the way home this evening I was as close to tears as I ever get, not because he'd blustered his way through keeping me at a distance, making it clear he won't be better until at least Monday (newsflash - I'm at a wedding this weekend, trade fair next week, not free until next Saturday but as he doesn't ask, he doesn't know), but because it's getting so clear to me that I need to have "The Conversation" with him.
I don't like being handled at all. I've accepted a middle ground with him, I don't object when he makes attempts to handle me, to manage my expectations in such a fashion, and nor do I accept them, but I have a threshold and he has just reached it. I almost feel proud it's gone over my normal three month mark, but really, I should have grown out of that by now so it's nothing to be proud of.
In case my obscene rant isn't quite clear enough; What a fucking idiot he is! Is he trying to play me? Who the fuck knows. I may love, in the most platonic sense, the man he is, and how he makes me feel, but as he is right now, he's not good enough. I have learnt from past mistakes, made it clear as I can that I want to see him, how I want to see him and he fails to respond in an acceptable fashion. So for now, I have no other way to describe him other than to say he is a cunt.
NB: If it wasn't for the second day in a row early morning encounter and then, as special bonus, an evening encounter on the tube with Mr Daniel Craig (no, not the real one, just a delectable man who conjures the 'emerging from the sea in tiny blue shorts' scene), I may have lost all faith in attractive men. For the record, that would be a disaster!!
Saturday 30 January 2010
27th January, later still & the letter
Ok, seven hours later and of course this is still playing on my mind and it's driving me to distraction. It's now 11pm and I've finished work and taken an evening class in the intervening period as well as having checked my phone constantly in case I've missed a text from him. That last part is just sad but part & parcel of modern telecommunications and of our relationship.
As you can imagine my mind is racing through a vast number of scenarios, few end well, and I'm at the very real risk of repeating myself so I shall move on. So let me end this silly saga by writing him a letter that he is never intended to read:
"To my dearest & darling Mr Magic,
I love you. Not in the romantic sense but in the way that I love everything about you, and who you are as a person. I think if time allowed, I would fall in love with you, in the deepest and most romantic sense that is perceivable to me. I do, however, think that that time is not now, and I wonder, and I fear that if not now, it never will be.
I find myself involved with you, sometimes involuntarily, in the most physical and emotional ways. When I am with you I can't see the woods for the trees so much I wonder if there are any trees at all?
I dearly wish you would sort out whatever you need to sort out with Her, relatively quickly too. If that means letting me go, or pushing me away for a while, or forever then so be it. The thought of this scares me to the brink of tears and foolishness, but it is not a thought I have overlooked.
I can't say that I have the experience, and on occasion I'd go so far as to say the maturity, to know how to deal with this correctly so I'm loathe to be content with the prospect of making mistakes. If I could see you, or sleep with you, or hold your hand one last time I would, and I may still yet, but right at this moment I don't think that I can.
True to my word I can't spend time with you in the way that I want to spend time with you all of the time that you have a girlfriend, trial separation or not. If you can't resolve your difference with her then you can't move on with me and I dearly wish you would. So visit her, don't visit her, see me, don't see me, it's up to you but until you resolve your relationship with Her, I don't want to see you. Whilst not the most deft play on words I could have conjured, I like to think you see where I have left the door open, but if you don't see it, I won't tell you.
I may not want to see you, but I will, and I would, if only you'd ask. So the next time you invite me to spend the night with you, at mine or at a hotel (as it surely won't be at yours), I'll hum and har and tell you we need to talk. You'll get that feeling in the pit of your stomach that you get when you are about to embark on a conversation you do not wish to have, but it will not be unexpected. You'll be waiting for it and for that reason alone I'm going to make you wait. Not out of malice, or gentle amusement, but because I'm going to be so very selfish and spend some cherished moments with you before the unpleasantness starts all over again.
This is based in a few key factors. Firstly I can't think of anything other than a marriage proposal (and no, I'm not joking) that would make me believe that you wanted me above all others. Secondly, I want you to want me above all others, and thirdly, if you were stupid enough to propose marriage as a solution I'd very easily be able to walk away and not look back.
I believe this is a vicious circle so for the time being I've got nothing else to do other than be selfish and enjoy you a while longer. I'll admit, I'm also a little curious to see how you deal with that feeling of knowing that something is coming your way but not wishing at all to provoke it any earlier than is absolutely necessary.
Is this game playing? Yes. But then my dear, you are the one who invited me to play. I'd much rather talk to you about how I feel and try to sort it out but I don't think it's realistic given the current tit-for-tat nature of our relationship. I do dearly wish it wasn't like this, but as you swing between offering delivery of home made soup when I'm poorly, and your clear statements of wanting to see me from time to time, when we both have the time and inclination (a phrase, incidentally that makes me want to attack you with a cheese grater), I find that I have little choice than to join you for the ride.
Looking ahead I see deal-breakers, which seem manageable despite unfavourable outcomes, and perhaps a few more games. You can be assured though, that all the while you capture my attention, and so far it's unnervingly unfaltering, you'll be the only man who captures me. I'll never deal you the same cards you play me with. I'll simply withdraw, as gracefully as I can, from the game and it will be over.
So you see I love you and I loathe you. It very much appears that you have failed to move on from being a trinket, except perhaps that now you are my favourite, and only trinket. For the record though, I much prefer Emeralds.
All my love,
LHC x"
As you can imagine my mind is racing through a vast number of scenarios, few end well, and I'm at the very real risk of repeating myself so I shall move on. So let me end this silly saga by writing him a letter that he is never intended to read:
"To my dearest & darling Mr Magic,
I love you. Not in the romantic sense but in the way that I love everything about you, and who you are as a person. I think if time allowed, I would fall in love with you, in the deepest and most romantic sense that is perceivable to me. I do, however, think that that time is not now, and I wonder, and I fear that if not now, it never will be.
I find myself involved with you, sometimes involuntarily, in the most physical and emotional ways. When I am with you I can't see the woods for the trees so much I wonder if there are any trees at all?
I dearly wish you would sort out whatever you need to sort out with Her, relatively quickly too. If that means letting me go, or pushing me away for a while, or forever then so be it. The thought of this scares me to the brink of tears and foolishness, but it is not a thought I have overlooked.
I can't say that I have the experience, and on occasion I'd go so far as to say the maturity, to know how to deal with this correctly so I'm loathe to be content with the prospect of making mistakes. If I could see you, or sleep with you, or hold your hand one last time I would, and I may still yet, but right at this moment I don't think that I can.
True to my word I can't spend time with you in the way that I want to spend time with you all of the time that you have a girlfriend, trial separation or not. If you can't resolve your difference with her then you can't move on with me and I dearly wish you would. So visit her, don't visit her, see me, don't see me, it's up to you but until you resolve your relationship with Her, I don't want to see you. Whilst not the most deft play on words I could have conjured, I like to think you see where I have left the door open, but if you don't see it, I won't tell you.
I may not want to see you, but I will, and I would, if only you'd ask. So the next time you invite me to spend the night with you, at mine or at a hotel (as it surely won't be at yours), I'll hum and har and tell you we need to talk. You'll get that feeling in the pit of your stomach that you get when you are about to embark on a conversation you do not wish to have, but it will not be unexpected. You'll be waiting for it and for that reason alone I'm going to make you wait. Not out of malice, or gentle amusement, but because I'm going to be so very selfish and spend some cherished moments with you before the unpleasantness starts all over again.
This is based in a few key factors. Firstly I can't think of anything other than a marriage proposal (and no, I'm not joking) that would make me believe that you wanted me above all others. Secondly, I want you to want me above all others, and thirdly, if you were stupid enough to propose marriage as a solution I'd very easily be able to walk away and not look back.
I believe this is a vicious circle so for the time being I've got nothing else to do other than be selfish and enjoy you a while longer. I'll admit, I'm also a little curious to see how you deal with that feeling of knowing that something is coming your way but not wishing at all to provoke it any earlier than is absolutely necessary.
Is this game playing? Yes. But then my dear, you are the one who invited me to play. I'd much rather talk to you about how I feel and try to sort it out but I don't think it's realistic given the current tit-for-tat nature of our relationship. I do dearly wish it wasn't like this, but as you swing between offering delivery of home made soup when I'm poorly, and your clear statements of wanting to see me from time to time, when we both have the time and inclination (a phrase, incidentally that makes me want to attack you with a cheese grater), I find that I have little choice than to join you for the ride.
Looking ahead I see deal-breakers, which seem manageable despite unfavourable outcomes, and perhaps a few more games. You can be assured though, that all the while you capture my attention, and so far it's unnervingly unfaltering, you'll be the only man who captures me. I'll never deal you the same cards you play me with. I'll simply withdraw, as gracefully as I can, from the game and it will be over.
So you see I love you and I loathe you. It very much appears that you have failed to move on from being a trinket, except perhaps that now you are my favourite, and only trinket. For the record though, I much prefer Emeralds.
All my love,
LHC x"
27th January
i really must make more time for this as I keep stopping and starting as it's getting me nowhere. Last night I had the most unpleasant dream - that I was having sex with a very attractive man who was covered in places with what can only be described as infectious looking legions.
This is not rocket science is it? No matter which way I bury my head in the sand the result is still the same - I can't continue to have unprotected sex with a man who may, or may not have unprotected sex with another woman, namely Her, when he goes to see her in an undefined number of weeks time. If we settle on this for a moment, and not all other related factors - I'm going to have to tell him. Not I suppose, so much for his sake, but for mine - he might be quite content to stay quiet on the matter, or to rely on his principle of 'if you wanted to know you'd ask', but that's not the way i want to be treated and thus not the way I wish to treat other people.
I guess the question is how long do I leave it? (Answer = don't put it off you idiot!) And, how do I tell him? (Answer = tell him straight!) Phone or face to face?
... too much planning. Not likely to see him for a while, so I guess I'll have to leave it for a bit longer. Miserable as that seems because we all know that I don't want to stop seeing him, or any of the above. This is all so bloody irritating as I can't help but think how he may react despite it clearly being out of my control. Oh my god - the four millionth scenario has just popped into my head. What on earth do I do if he says 'Ok, not a problem'? I suspect blow a fuse and excuse myself on a permanent basis just as quickly as I could!!
This is not rocket science is it? No matter which way I bury my head in the sand the result is still the same - I can't continue to have unprotected sex with a man who may, or may not have unprotected sex with another woman, namely Her, when he goes to see her in an undefined number of weeks time. If we settle on this for a moment, and not all other related factors - I'm going to have to tell him. Not I suppose, so much for his sake, but for mine - he might be quite content to stay quiet on the matter, or to rely on his principle of 'if you wanted to know you'd ask', but that's not the way i want to be treated and thus not the way I wish to treat other people.
I guess the question is how long do I leave it? (Answer = don't put it off you idiot!) And, how do I tell him? (Answer = tell him straight!) Phone or face to face?
... too much planning. Not likely to see him for a while, so I guess I'll have to leave it for a bit longer. Miserable as that seems because we all know that I don't want to stop seeing him, or any of the above. This is all so bloody irritating as I can't help but think how he may react despite it clearly being out of my control. Oh my god - the four millionth scenario has just popped into my head. What on earth do I do if he says 'Ok, not a problem'? I suspect blow a fuse and excuse myself on a permanent basis just as quickly as I could!!
25th January
A disappointment, that's not quite right either.
I perhaps mean that I'm disappointed, and not with him, with myself.
Sleeping with him, spending time with him, is actually fantastic! I've paused to think about that for quite some time as having committed pen to paper I wonder if that is too dramatic a statement? I think perhaps not; as a lover he is very satisfying and good fun, it's perhaps being a friend is where he is falling down at the moment.
I perhaps mean that I'm disappointed, and not with him, with myself.
Sleeping with him, spending time with him, is actually fantastic! I've paused to think about that for quite some time as having committed pen to paper I wonder if that is too dramatic a statement? I think perhaps not; as a lover he is very satisfying and good fun, it's perhaps being a friend is where he is falling down at the moment.
Friday 29 January 2010
24th January
In tradition of not looking back, I refuse to re-read anything I have already written. This may be to my detriment. Since my last entry my mind has been swung between cutting him out of life completely, and partially, and indeed continuing as we are .. so thus i am none the wiser.
I really don't know what to do. But I know that every time I sleep with him I feel a sense of, it's not quite guilt, or shame, but more disappointment. To spend time with him is an unexpected high, one which I am not aware of at the time, but when he leaves (as it's always him that leaves) it's as if my world falls to its knees.
There is now, of course, the knowledge that he is soon to spend two weeks visiting Her. Not something that is a surprise, or a disappointment, which in itself is a curious reaction.
I really don't know what to do. But I know that every time I sleep with him I feel a sense of, it's not quite guilt, or shame, but more disappointment. To spend time with him is an unexpected high, one which I am not aware of at the time, but when he leaves (as it's always him that leaves) it's as if my world falls to its knees.
There is now, of course, the knowledge that he is soon to spend two weeks visiting Her. Not something that is a surprise, or a disappointment, which in itself is a curious reaction.
20th January
I'm not sure who I'm trying to convince, but this is just not working, or at least it's not what I want. Is this the three month curse for real, is it a real doubt, or am i just at the mercy of my recently very sporadic emotions? I need to talk to him, I think a target of the end of January is a good idea.
I need to tell him that I'm thinking of calling it a day with him. That the longer I go on seeing him the more it feels like an affair and the more that becomes an unacceptable situation to be in. That I can't just stop sleeping with him to absolve my guilt and unease, because as lovely as he is, I want to be with him, not sat opposite him in the most platonic of ways.
My gut is telling me that something is not right, and I know what that us, but I really have to do something about it as it's becoming too much to bear. Is it her? Partly, but it's also Him, and the way he chooses to deal with contentious issues. Even writing that I feel uneasy - for example, he says he's planning three weeks away and I don't ask where, and he doesn't tell. So really, as bad as he is, I am too. Not that this all too frequent observation helps one bit but I guess one us has to break the cycle and it's not going to be him!
Logic says that if you remove the factors about which you can be proactive, the problem lies in the factors about which you can do nothing. These, as I see it are twofold. Firstly, I can't effectively affect his relationship with Her. Secondly, I can, as long as I am true to myself, do nothing about how he feels about me.
I don't doubt he likes me, and I don't doubt he has issues with Her, apply both in the reverse and I conclude that neither has any real effect on the other. I guess my conclusion for today is that if I'm having an affair I'd like to know about it, and choose whether I want it to continue. He's had his cake and I think it's about time I had mine.
I need to tell him that I'm thinking of calling it a day with him. That the longer I go on seeing him the more it feels like an affair and the more that becomes an unacceptable situation to be in. That I can't just stop sleeping with him to absolve my guilt and unease, because as lovely as he is, I want to be with him, not sat opposite him in the most platonic of ways.
My gut is telling me that something is not right, and I know what that us, but I really have to do something about it as it's becoming too much to bear. Is it her? Partly, but it's also Him, and the way he chooses to deal with contentious issues. Even writing that I feel uneasy - for example, he says he's planning three weeks away and I don't ask where, and he doesn't tell. So really, as bad as he is, I am too. Not that this all too frequent observation helps one bit but I guess one us has to break the cycle and it's not going to be him!
Logic says that if you remove the factors about which you can be proactive, the problem lies in the factors about which you can do nothing. These, as I see it are twofold. Firstly, I can't effectively affect his relationship with Her. Secondly, I can, as long as I am true to myself, do nothing about how he feels about me.
I don't doubt he likes me, and I don't doubt he has issues with Her, apply both in the reverse and I conclude that neither has any real effect on the other. I guess my conclusion for today is that if I'm having an affair I'd like to know about it, and choose whether I want it to continue. He's had his cake and I think it's about time I had mine.
Confession
I started writing this as a means to express things I didn't feel had an appropriate outlet elsewhere, but I confess, I've also been keeping a diary. It's not a daily event, more of an outlet for when my thoughts became too much to bear, and I've only just found the point at which it's appropriate that they converge. So let me take you to the most appropriate point ...
Wednesday 20 January 2010
What respectable man wears a thong? I ask you!
...the type of man who is conscious of how his very handsome backside looks in a very tight pair or jeans, that's who!!
Where on earth am I? I like him, I love him even (in the loosest, most non-commital way one can make such a statement), and yet it didn't really put me off ... once indeed it was off. I remember many years ago a boyfriend of the time adorning himself with what can only be described as a market-stall paisley print shirt and dodgy canvas shoes unbefitting of the time and and indeed any fashion sense whatsoever ... it was enough to see me drink three drinks straight before I could overlook the fashion faux pax and go near him!! Not so with Mr M.
Where was I? Oh yes, Mr M: Events are not transpiring as I would have hoped. I continue to be tortured by his tremendous tendency to be oh so lovely, as well as his tendency to be oh so less than satisfactory. Many, many orgasms, and one hotel room night's worth of sheer tortuous pleasure since my last post and I fear that I fail to see the point of Mr M at all, despite the utopic state he reduces me to. Could I be suffering from the anticipated and somewhat dreaded 3 month itch, as I've now an overwhelming desire to tease a few men I know into a frenzy... I think I'll start with the easy option, Mr Marine :-)
I'm not entirely sure what to do about the thong though. What would you do?
Where on earth am I? I like him, I love him even (in the loosest, most non-commital way one can make such a statement), and yet it didn't really put me off ... once indeed it was off. I remember many years ago a boyfriend of the time adorning himself with what can only be described as a market-stall paisley print shirt and dodgy canvas shoes unbefitting of the time and and indeed any fashion sense whatsoever ... it was enough to see me drink three drinks straight before I could overlook the fashion faux pax and go near him!! Not so with Mr M.
Where was I? Oh yes, Mr M: Events are not transpiring as I would have hoped. I continue to be tortured by his tremendous tendency to be oh so lovely, as well as his tendency to be oh so less than satisfactory. Many, many orgasms, and one hotel room night's worth of sheer tortuous pleasure since my last post and I fear that I fail to see the point of Mr M at all, despite the utopic state he reduces me to. Could I be suffering from the anticipated and somewhat dreaded 3 month itch, as I've now an overwhelming desire to tease a few men I know into a frenzy... I think I'll start with the easy option, Mr Marine :-)
I'm not entirely sure what to do about the thong though. What would you do?
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