Thursday 11 February 2010

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 ...

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