Probably a week before I left for Portugal I sent him an email saying that if he couldn't get around to meeting me, that I insisted he meet with me on the 8th- that it was enough advance warning for him to adjust his schedule and I would be extremely cross if he didn't make it. As days passed that 'he wanted to see me' but never did and when the emails came to confirm this I would respond with a reminder about the 8th. Then at some point I just got annoyed. Well no, I was already annoyed. At some point I just got fed up. There isn't anyone I know that I have to literally beg to see me, or speak to me even. How is that reasonable? At that moment I didn't even care if I saw him on the 8th and in fact was even annoyed that he was saying he would because it seemed to me it was only because I made him do it anyway. So I didn't write him anything of note at all and I went away to Portugal.
In Portugal I gained a little bit of perspective. It always seems that everyone wants a partner that does the perfect things. But sometimes you do have to ask for what you want. And sometimes, it may not be something the other person would otherwise do. If they do it, it may be 'doing it just for you' but it also equally shows that by doing something for you that they wouldn't otherwise do that they are willing to make some sort of sacrifice for you, even if it may not be the one you originally wanted, and it isn't anything to complain about. So I was more calm about seeing him, if he showed, but then, not calm at all. After all, it was going to be six weeks.
So I get back and wait. No email, no confirmation, no nothing. Sunday, Monday, Tuesday. It might have been Monday or perhaps it was Tuesday when I got a short text saying he was alive and how was Portugal. Nothing else. Wednesday I was prepared for the idea that he wasn't going to show. But the emotion or effort left to pitch a fit about it was just gone. I sent a text as though we were still meeting, what was the plan, north or south, a drink a meal? And sometime after lunch I got a reply that he would come north to Angel and meet me at 7.
I think I was a bit startled. In a way, if he'd missed it, it would have been abundantly clear to me that there was nothing left. But what was this all about? And I didn't want to go and be a bitch or be nasty, in truth that urge was long gone. All I felt was empty and unsure. And so I went. And true to form, he was late (though he sent a text saying he was going to be late I was already on the bus so it didn't do me any good). But he showed. And there he was. Looking much the same as ever.
And it was strange. Perhaps awkward even. No kiss or hug hello. Not that I initiated any, but fuck that because I'd been dissed for six weeks and it was hard enough to insist he come meet me when he wouldn't have otherwise and that was all the effort I was willing to put into it. And so we were there together, awkwardly. And I dragged us off to the Islington Tap. First because being slightly off the main drag, it's always slightly quieter and calmer and it's also not a small place which means we would probably get a table even though it was now closer to 8 and lastly, they have okay food and I was hungry. Oh, and it's also the place we had our first meeting, but that was just me being sentimental and stupid, but I do tend to like synchronicity as a theory.
And so we talked. About what we'd been up to. About things that were going on. But not about us. Never about us. What did I possibly have left to say? I can't want things from someone who seems to have no interest in giving them to me. I'm not so pathetic as to continually put in the position of asking someone for things they will never give to me. I'm just done with it. I asked him to meet me and he did and then... and then there was nothing left in me. It's not that I like him less, it's not that I don't want to see him, but I won't put myself in that position. And so for me, there was nothing to talk about with us. Well, there was one thing, the matter of my stuff. Which I'd mentioned in a couple of emails over the last month and a half. And at some point well into us sitting and talking of unimportant things and of very important things but not of each other he says that he brought my things.
I did think it was strange that he was carrying a bag, though I'd seen lots of bags at his place with papers and various things in them, I'd never seen him carry a bag, though I assumed he did. So when he arrived and I saw the bag, I noted it and then ignored it, not considering it could be for me. Or maybe I did consider it but when he didn't give it to me right away I thought it wasn't. I don't know. His introduction of the topic threw me and I wasn't expecting it and I instantly felt sad. Even though I wanted my things. Even though he'd brought them without my asking for them, because he knew I wanted them from way back previous emails. It felt somehow final to me, that there was nothing left. I put my head into my arms on the table and turned my face slightly away from him (we were sitting side by side) and I asked him if he was going to disappear now. He said he wasn't. I didn't believe him. Like a stupid girl I got a bit teary. He noticed when I went to wipe one off my nose.
"Hey," he said, turning my face to look at him and tracing a finger along a tear path on my cheek, "I'm not going to disappear. I'm not.". And maybe I shrugged. And maybe a part of me wished he would because it would be easier. And part of me didn't want him to.
He didn't come over. He went back south. It wasn't even that late. Maybe we'd spent two hours together. We walked back to the main road holding hands, where he had to go right to the tube and I had to go left to the bus. He gave me the bag. I indicated I had to go the other way and we stood there on the corner. And we kissed some, and then I went my way and he went his.
I had some contact with him on Thursday but nothing since then. Only one thing was missing from the bag, a bar-gag that wasn't particularly expensive or impressive to begin with (ie, although something I like and something useful, something I wouldn't mind losing and replacing with an upgraded model). And that's where things stand. And I wake up this morning and it's raining and grey and I have my first indication that the woman's curse may be visiting me this week and I find I just don't want to think about much of anything at all.
I need to do more laundry but I have no place left to hang it up really. I need to change the sheets on my bed, I need to clean up my room. I need to put clean laundry away. I need to vacuum. And I need to start studying, seriously. Like a bunch of hours today, no joke. I've fallen half a month behind and February is a short month anyway. Fuck.
1 comment:
... womans curse definitely coming... mines coming...
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