I've been away. Not away, away; I've still been going about my life in the usual way but I have been out of the blogosphere. The reason for this is that I was writing boring crap about how much I hate my life. My life still pretty much sucks ass but I'm not going to bore people with that so much...I have found a (kind of) purpose.
I'm a Taurean, but I'm a funny kind of Taurean. I'm the kind of Taurean who is ruled by Mars. I'm not getting into the Astrology of it all here (it would take a looooooongggggg time) but suffice it to say that I'm cross. I'm a cross, cross, cross person and I'm funny when I'm cross. I'm confused when I'm not cross soooooo I'm gonna tell you about the things that make me cross. In a funny way (she hopes.)
For the past few weeks the British media has been full of news about MPs expenses. If you are living in a foreign land (or living in a foxhole in England) the news is that (shock horror) MPs have been diddling and fiddling their expenses. Now I, for one, am completely amazed that anyone with an expense account would do this. I mean, it surely NEVER happens in real life, does it? Oh wait, yep, yes it does. It's not right but it is how it goes...Imagine...
Mr Krelbourne: "So, Dave, welcome to the company. I hope you are settling in. Just to let you know, if you have to stay overnight somewhere other than your home you will be reimbursed for any expenses you occur."
Dave: "Oh thanks Mr Krelbourne. I am settling in nicely thanks. I appreciate your generosity but I'm more than happy to pay for myself in those circumstances. I wouldn't dream of claiming for my Hobnobs and Orange Juice. I'll pay for them out of my own pocket."
It wouldn't happen. We claim what we can because we feel like we deserve it. And I don't doubt for one minute that these ministers and MPs feel like they deserve what they have claimed. Don't get me wrong; there are some of 'em that have clearly, with some malice and forethought, set out to defraud the system. Every claim for interest on a mortgage that has already been paid off and the dry rot issue, the couple who were claiming different houses as their second home, the flipping - they were wrong and possibly illegal and these people should be punished. Not voting is not the answer.
I was horrified when, on one of the awful vox pops that the news programmes insist on shoving down my throat, there was a woman who proudly declared that she had never voted and wasn't about to start now. I know voter apathy is rife. Recent revelations have only served to "prove" lazy non-voters that they are "right" not to bother. They are not right to bother. It scares me that we have become so frivolous that we would throw away the right that our ancestors have fought for time and again. Women who don't vote annoy and disgust me. Only 100 years ago we would not have been allowed near a polling station; nor would your average man, in fact. The rules were elitist and sexist. There is no barrier to us exercising our democratic right other than our own laziness. Did the Pankhurts et al. fight for us to sit at home scratching our arses and watching Corrie?
Would we have been able to vote freely had Hitler won World War II? On the weekend when we remember and celebrate the lives and sacrifices of those who died on D-Day what kind of an insult is our idle, bored lack of interest in who governs this nation?
Arguing silent protest is not going to wash either. Being able to vote is an honour. It's not an automatic right. There are vast swathes of this planet where people are afraid for their lives come polling time. Anyone who protests against the regimes and dictators of these places, simply by voting for someone else, is under threat of imprisonment or death. The thought that we would choose to protest silently rather than voting for someone else and showing our annoyance in this way is terrible. The fact that more people vote for a silly dancing, singing or "talent" show makes me ashamed to be British.
I told a woman off on Thursday who wasn't voting because she thought it would be funny if the BNP got elected. This wouldn't be funny; it would, and I mean this in its most vehement sense, be terrifying. The BNP are not only racist; they are sexist and homophobic. They associate with people who deny the holocaust and align themselves with Nazis and this is truly, truly terrifying. The thought that a few claims for moat maintenance and trouser presses could lead to these horrible monsters having any power at all is bad. If they do get in though the fault does not lie wholly and squarely with the politicians, corrupt, silly or careless. Responsibility lies with every single person in this country who could have voted, who could have ensured they remained on the fringes of society where they belong, but didn't.
I can't tell people how to vote here. I would love to ensure that parties like the BNP and the crazy christians who were bidding for a spot don't get in but I can't demand you don't vote for who you believe in. It's a little late for my message now but, next time there is an election (local, national, European, a referendum) please, please vote. Don't waste the right that a fluke of birth has bestowed upon you. Think about those who have gone before, those who right now would love to be able to put a cross next to their preferred candidate without fearing for their life. Think what it would have been like for our grandparents and great-grandparents who did not have the right to a say and, for the good of democracy, have yours!
Sunday 7 June 2009
Saturday 17 January 2009
Good news at last
Sooooooo. I haven't wanted to post anything until I was a bit more cheerful than the last time. I don't know that I'm more cheerful as such but I do have good news. I returned to work in the new year to find that I have a shiny new job. I had the interview before Christmas and whilst I felt it went well I wasn't sure I'd be successful. The job itself is very exciting. It is launching a new product which may start to make a real change to the way people study and the qualifications they get.
It's also a validation of part of me which I feel has been squashed and trampled on in my current post. It's sometimes hard labour for me to have a professional work persona as I am, by nature, dramatic and exhuberant. I feel everything a bit too much to really be professional but I do work hard to show this calm and collected individual to my colleagues. She is in there and I don't feel like I'm denying who I really am but I have felt, for years now, that there's no point as I'm under-valued and completely unappreciated. Well now, I am appreciated. I start in a few weeks (bitter arguements with the outgoing boss have ensued about my leaving date) and I'm looking forward to working with someone who may just appreciate the career girl part of me is.
I've also had a lovely afternoon with one of my oldest, closest, dearest, bestest friends. She of the lovely Christmas house fame has spent the afternoon inspiring me, empathising with me, making me laugh and generally making me feel loved and special.
Her craft projects are an inspiration to anyone who has ever picked up a needle and thread and wanted to create something beautiful and now she's going to make a business out of it. I'm proud, excited, a little jealous and most of all looking forward to what treats I can buy myself...like the brooch I bought my mum, a ball of yarn with knitting needles pushed through. It needs to be seen. I don't do it justice. By all accounts a simple idea but make no mistake it is an inspired one. They are lovely and I bought it from my friend the artist and creator not just my friend.
She almost made me cry today by quietly, in a truly understated way telling me that she is so glad I'm in her life. She wasn't drunk (a small amount of wine was drunk in celebration of our new work ventures but not a lot) and she didn't want anything in return. She just wanted to let me know. And I want to let her know. We have been friends for some 12 years in September - no mean feat for people hanging around in the world of the dramatic and creative arts, I tell ya. She has moved away and back to our adopted home, got married and had two beautiful babies. My trajectory has been less dramatic and variable and perhaps that has helped but effort has been made on both our parts. She had concerns when she first got pregnant that we would drift apart (I don't have kids, don't want kids) but I look after her little ones from time to time in order that her and her husband (it doesn't hurt that I love him to bits too) may have some semblance of a social life. I don't think she knows how content it makes me to know that I'm one of the only people she trusts those mini-Bs with (it is mad that it should be me given the fact that I'm the least maternal woman you are ever likely to meet but it works.) It works because we get one another. We aren't afraid to disagree take full advantage of the other when necessary - always safe in the knowledge that it will be reciprocated in the near future.
We have seen one another angry, happy, depressed, elated, snippy, drunk, tired, lonely, grieving and almost everywhere in between and I would like to say here and now that I love my friend and that I'm thankful for her. I'm thankful to whatever twist of fate brought us together, I'm thankful to her for putting up with my highs and lows, to her husband for loving Manchester as much as she does and making it easier to come back here and I'm thankful that we are growing together. Sisters not in the biological sense but in the way that really matters. For a long, long time to come.
Sx
It's also a validation of part of me which I feel has been squashed and trampled on in my current post. It's sometimes hard labour for me to have a professional work persona as I am, by nature, dramatic and exhuberant. I feel everything a bit too much to really be professional but I do work hard to show this calm and collected individual to my colleagues. She is in there and I don't feel like I'm denying who I really am but I have felt, for years now, that there's no point as I'm under-valued and completely unappreciated. Well now, I am appreciated. I start in a few weeks (bitter arguements with the outgoing boss have ensued about my leaving date) and I'm looking forward to working with someone who may just appreciate the career girl part of me is.
I've also had a lovely afternoon with one of my oldest, closest, dearest, bestest friends. She of the lovely Christmas house fame has spent the afternoon inspiring me, empathising with me, making me laugh and generally making me feel loved and special.
Her craft projects are an inspiration to anyone who has ever picked up a needle and thread and wanted to create something beautiful and now she's going to make a business out of it. I'm proud, excited, a little jealous and most of all looking forward to what treats I can buy myself...like the brooch I bought my mum, a ball of yarn with knitting needles pushed through. It needs to be seen. I don't do it justice. By all accounts a simple idea but make no mistake it is an inspired one. They are lovely and I bought it from my friend the artist and creator not just my friend.
She almost made me cry today by quietly, in a truly understated way telling me that she is so glad I'm in her life. She wasn't drunk (a small amount of wine was drunk in celebration of our new work ventures but not a lot) and she didn't want anything in return. She just wanted to let me know. And I want to let her know. We have been friends for some 12 years in September - no mean feat for people hanging around in the world of the dramatic and creative arts, I tell ya. She has moved away and back to our adopted home, got married and had two beautiful babies. My trajectory has been less dramatic and variable and perhaps that has helped but effort has been made on both our parts. She had concerns when she first got pregnant that we would drift apart (I don't have kids, don't want kids) but I look after her little ones from time to time in order that her and her husband (it doesn't hurt that I love him to bits too) may have some semblance of a social life. I don't think she knows how content it makes me to know that I'm one of the only people she trusts those mini-Bs with (it is mad that it should be me given the fact that I'm the least maternal woman you are ever likely to meet but it works.) It works because we get one another. We aren't afraid to disagree take full advantage of the other when necessary - always safe in the knowledge that it will be reciprocated in the near future.
We have seen one another angry, happy, depressed, elated, snippy, drunk, tired, lonely, grieving and almost everywhere in between and I would like to say here and now that I love my friend and that I'm thankful for her. I'm thankful to whatever twist of fate brought us together, I'm thankful to her for putting up with my highs and lows, to her husband for loving Manchester as much as she does and making it easier to come back here and I'm thankful that we are growing together. Sisters not in the biological sense but in the way that really matters. For a long, long time to come.
Sx
Saturday 20 December 2008
Christmas is coming
Never been a fan of this time of year. It does my head in, all the enforced merriment and the people being hell-bent on socialising when the weather screams "get indoors now and don't come out again until spring". I'd gladly hibernate from the time that the Christmas songs start playing until it's time to eat chocolate eggs but, well, I can't.
I always want to like Christmas, or Yuletide. My friend loves Christmas. And I mean really loves it. She's like a kid from well before the beginning of December. She's so happy at this time of year. This festive season her house is more beautiful than ever, with hand-made decorations that look shop bought and a sense of happiness which swathes the house in a glow which isn't coming from the (tastefully arranged) fairy lights. And none of it is contrived. She doesn't do it because she thinks she should or because she's trying to keep up with the Jones'. She does it because she loves it. And it's lovely. Genuinely lovely. I'm happy that she's happy. She deserves to be but it's really hard to be the person who hates it. And I don't mean in a bah humbug, grumbling way. I'm not annoyed about the commercialisation of Christmas or the fact that it starts earlier and earlier every year. I mean on a really basic level - this is the worst time of year for me. It makes me more lonely than any other. It throws in to sharp relief how desperately unhappy I am and you aren't allowed to moan. You just aren't. People keep saying "At least you have 2 weeks off work", "At least you'll be around your family" and many other ridiculous, ill thought-out comments which do not serve to make me feel any better about the whole thing. Work is a welcome distraction from the shambles that is my life right now. Especially when someone or something annoys me - I can focus on that and push the thought of Keith sitting round a tree with his kids, opening presents, drinking mulled wine and not thinking about me, for about 5 seconds and that gives me time to breathe, which is necessary to the whole survival thing. And I'll not even start on how much worse being around my family makes me feel.
I'm dreading Christmas Day and then the period after, during which everybody is depressed anyway. I'm dreading New Year even more. I'm dreading people telling me that maybe 2009 will be better for me - that this will be my year. Unless he comes back it won't be any better. It's not like everything or, in fact, anything is going to change after some arbitary date in a calender.
I went out with a friend last night. I don't see him often. I quite like him but he really pushed me last night to really go in to detail about how I feel. I don't want to do that. I don't see why I should have to. I want it to be enough for me to say I'm sad or whatever and for people to leave me alone unless I want to talk. He said he had been worrying about me because I haven't felt like going out and I have said one of the reasons is because I know I'm not very good company. Truth is, I don't care whether or not I'm good company. I don't want to go out because I don't want to go out. It's totally fucking slefish and I feel like I'm entitled to be. Some others really don't think I'm entitled to that. They are getting annoyed with me now 'cos I'm still not in the party mood and it has been 6 months now so they don't understand why I'm not better and back to my old self. What they fail to realise is that "my old self" was entirely dependent on Keith. Not in a drippy, soppy way - I don't think I have no personality because he's gone but he gave me the strength and fortitude to deal with other people's crap which some people used to dump on me with alarming regularity and I'm not around for those people anymore. I can't be. I've got my own shit now and I'm drowning in it so I have no capacity for dealing with theirs and that is not going down well. I can't be bothered to care about that though. I have to find a way to cope with the next couple of weeks and I'm terrified that I don't have the ability to get through it. I can't say this to people. It's not what they want to hear at this time of year but it's how it is.
It'll all be over soon though and I won't have to worry about feeling as bad as this until my birthday in May, which is goign to be horrendous. I don't know if I'll get away with locking my door and not speaking to anyone until that's over but I know I'll be trying.
Sx
I always want to like Christmas, or Yuletide. My friend loves Christmas. And I mean really loves it. She's like a kid from well before the beginning of December. She's so happy at this time of year. This festive season her house is more beautiful than ever, with hand-made decorations that look shop bought and a sense of happiness which swathes the house in a glow which isn't coming from the (tastefully arranged) fairy lights. And none of it is contrived. She doesn't do it because she thinks she should or because she's trying to keep up with the Jones'. She does it because she loves it. And it's lovely. Genuinely lovely. I'm happy that she's happy. She deserves to be but it's really hard to be the person who hates it. And I don't mean in a bah humbug, grumbling way. I'm not annoyed about the commercialisation of Christmas or the fact that it starts earlier and earlier every year. I mean on a really basic level - this is the worst time of year for me. It makes me more lonely than any other. It throws in to sharp relief how desperately unhappy I am and you aren't allowed to moan. You just aren't. People keep saying "At least you have 2 weeks off work", "At least you'll be around your family" and many other ridiculous, ill thought-out comments which do not serve to make me feel any better about the whole thing. Work is a welcome distraction from the shambles that is my life right now. Especially when someone or something annoys me - I can focus on that and push the thought of Keith sitting round a tree with his kids, opening presents, drinking mulled wine and not thinking about me, for about 5 seconds and that gives me time to breathe, which is necessary to the whole survival thing. And I'll not even start on how much worse being around my family makes me feel.
I'm dreading Christmas Day and then the period after, during which everybody is depressed anyway. I'm dreading New Year even more. I'm dreading people telling me that maybe 2009 will be better for me - that this will be my year. Unless he comes back it won't be any better. It's not like everything or, in fact, anything is going to change after some arbitary date in a calender.
I went out with a friend last night. I don't see him often. I quite like him but he really pushed me last night to really go in to detail about how I feel. I don't want to do that. I don't see why I should have to. I want it to be enough for me to say I'm sad or whatever and for people to leave me alone unless I want to talk. He said he had been worrying about me because I haven't felt like going out and I have said one of the reasons is because I know I'm not very good company. Truth is, I don't care whether or not I'm good company. I don't want to go out because I don't want to go out. It's totally fucking slefish and I feel like I'm entitled to be. Some others really don't think I'm entitled to that. They are getting annoyed with me now 'cos I'm still not in the party mood and it has been 6 months now so they don't understand why I'm not better and back to my old self. What they fail to realise is that "my old self" was entirely dependent on Keith. Not in a drippy, soppy way - I don't think I have no personality because he's gone but he gave me the strength and fortitude to deal with other people's crap which some people used to dump on me with alarming regularity and I'm not around for those people anymore. I can't be. I've got my own shit now and I'm drowning in it so I have no capacity for dealing with theirs and that is not going down well. I can't be bothered to care about that though. I have to find a way to cope with the next couple of weeks and I'm terrified that I don't have the ability to get through it. I can't say this to people. It's not what they want to hear at this time of year but it's how it is.
It'll all be over soon though and I won't have to worry about feeling as bad as this until my birthday in May, which is goign to be horrendous. I don't know if I'll get away with locking my door and not speaking to anyone until that's over but I know I'll be trying.
Sx
Wednesday 17 December 2008
Ha ha
Well, I told "someone from work" that I like him and he doesn't feel the same - funny though 'cos telling him has kind of broken the whole thing. Turns out he's not so special or interesting - he's just the same as all the boys. He was taking the mickey really. He decided that he wanted to socialise a bit more and thought he'd just jump on my band-wagon. I've pulled the rug from under him somewhat and he'll have to make his own friends now 'cos he's proven humself to be a bit of a turd.
It's not just 'cos he doesn't like me. People like who they like and the ridiculous notion he has that he's hot has lead to him being sex-free for a number of years and is bound to continue but it's the fact that he knew I liked him and he still felt inclined to lead me up the garden path in the hope that it may get him close to someone else really proves he's not the kind of person I want in my life. I'm glad I did it and glad to have dispensed with him as a "friend" as it turns out so it's ok.
There was some crying on the night it happened but the tears weren't for him. They were for Keith. I miss him so much. I just lurch from one tiresome, frustrating day to the next, never really getting anywhere apart from closer to Christmas, which I am dreading. I keep thinking I can find a way to get him back (I always have) but this time things look bleak and I've never really contemplated the next 50 or so years without him. It has just never really occurred to me that I'll have to cope with that.
I have a job interview tomorrow morning. I really ought to be preparing for it but I can't be bothered. I'd quite like the job but I don't really care. It's not like it's going to make me happy or fulfilled. I'll just be doing a different job all day whilst dreaming up ways to try and get Keith to talk to me.
God, people must be bored of me. I have nothing else I want to talk about - not for any length of time and I know they must be getting sick of it but I'm afraid to let him die. I'm so scared of the void that will be left if I shut up about him - I'm scared that if I bottle it up and keep it in I'll spontaneously combust so this is a heartfelt apology to all my friends who shouldn't have to listen to me but do. Thank you. I love you.
I'm away to have another stab at this presentation for tomorrow. I'm not holding my breath. I could do the job standing on my head but I've no idea if I'm what they'll want. Fingers crossed, eh?
Sx
It's not just 'cos he doesn't like me. People like who they like and the ridiculous notion he has that he's hot has lead to him being sex-free for a number of years and is bound to continue but it's the fact that he knew I liked him and he still felt inclined to lead me up the garden path in the hope that it may get him close to someone else really proves he's not the kind of person I want in my life. I'm glad I did it and glad to have dispensed with him as a "friend" as it turns out so it's ok.
There was some crying on the night it happened but the tears weren't for him. They were for Keith. I miss him so much. I just lurch from one tiresome, frustrating day to the next, never really getting anywhere apart from closer to Christmas, which I am dreading. I keep thinking I can find a way to get him back (I always have) but this time things look bleak and I've never really contemplated the next 50 or so years without him. It has just never really occurred to me that I'll have to cope with that.
I have a job interview tomorrow morning. I really ought to be preparing for it but I can't be bothered. I'd quite like the job but I don't really care. It's not like it's going to make me happy or fulfilled. I'll just be doing a different job all day whilst dreaming up ways to try and get Keith to talk to me.
God, people must be bored of me. I have nothing else I want to talk about - not for any length of time and I know they must be getting sick of it but I'm afraid to let him die. I'm so scared of the void that will be left if I shut up about him - I'm scared that if I bottle it up and keep it in I'll spontaneously combust so this is a heartfelt apology to all my friends who shouldn't have to listen to me but do. Thank you. I love you.
I'm away to have another stab at this presentation for tomorrow. I'm not holding my breath. I could do the job standing on my head but I've no idea if I'm what they'll want. Fingers crossed, eh?
Sx
Friday 12 December 2008
Someone from work
So, I didn't think I'd be posting today. I went out with someone from work tonight. I hoped that I wouldn't be home so early... There's a chance he may read this but I'm beyond being bothered about that. He couldn't really have made it more clear that he isn't interested in me and I'm surprised by how much that hurts. There's no way I can tell him how much I like the way his eyes (which are not the traditional brown, but a lovely shade of blue) crinkle when he smiles, how I like the way that when he laughs, it comes right from his belly and that his kindness makes me feel warm and happy. He went out of his way to let me know he doesn't feel anything but friendship for me and it has made me sad. More sad than I thought I would feel over someone who wasn't Keith.
We have been out a couple of times. I know he enjoys himself. I know he really likes my company but it's not enough for him. He has been my secret crush for 7 years. He has always been there throughout the Keith debacle and now we are in a place where we are both single and potentially ready for something and I'm not, physically, what he wants. I asked him what a woman would have to have for him and he started with "Good sense of humour". I have done some stand-up comedy in my time and I know I make him laugh. He talked about qualities I possess and was shocked when I said I was pleased but surprised that he didn't start with physical attributes but the reality is I was sitting in front of him, practically begging him for attention and he just doesn't notice.
I have taken the (sound) advice from friends to pretend that I'm completely ready to move on from Keith - to ensure that the fact that the impression Keith has left on me doesn't put this new man off. The truth is that he exists independently of Keith. This man doesn't make the pain of losing Keith go. He's not a distraction or some kind of sticking plaster. I like him for who he is and I would like what we have to be more and if it can't or isn't or whatever, I don't feel I have the strength to continue just being friends with him - not after what I've been through this year. I know I was funny with him at the beginning of the week after he had (inadvertently) upset me and he picked up on it (most men would NEVER have done) and I wanted to tell him. I wanted to shout that I wanted him and him thinking I'm just a pal cuts in a way I didn't envisage but I couldn't because the pain of actual rejection would be more than my fragile heart could bear right now. He deserves someone. He's special and I don't know if he knows it. I'd like to be able to tell him how special he is but it isn't my place. I must continue to admire him from afar and hope that someone, who I could care for, thinks the same of me, or will because I'm sad today and I really shouldn't be. Being with him makes me smile and I didn't know that that would happen so soon after Keith went away but I'm not the girl for him and that's sad. It's hard.
I wanted today's post to be positive. It should be. My friend, who I really admire, told me today that she really enjoyed my first post and that she likes my writing style. It made me happy. I was going for a drink with my (not so) secret crush and I ate pizza with my lovely friend who never fails to make me smile but I am sad and I don't know what else the Universe can come up with to make me blue but I don't feel prepared to deal with it. I hope tomorrow brings smiles and something positive. It might!
Sx
We have been out a couple of times. I know he enjoys himself. I know he really likes my company but it's not enough for him. He has been my secret crush for 7 years. He has always been there throughout the Keith debacle and now we are in a place where we are both single and potentially ready for something and I'm not, physically, what he wants. I asked him what a woman would have to have for him and he started with "Good sense of humour". I have done some stand-up comedy in my time and I know I make him laugh. He talked about qualities I possess and was shocked when I said I was pleased but surprised that he didn't start with physical attributes but the reality is I was sitting in front of him, practically begging him for attention and he just doesn't notice.
I have taken the (sound) advice from friends to pretend that I'm completely ready to move on from Keith - to ensure that the fact that the impression Keith has left on me doesn't put this new man off. The truth is that he exists independently of Keith. This man doesn't make the pain of losing Keith go. He's not a distraction or some kind of sticking plaster. I like him for who he is and I would like what we have to be more and if it can't or isn't or whatever, I don't feel I have the strength to continue just being friends with him - not after what I've been through this year. I know I was funny with him at the beginning of the week after he had (inadvertently) upset me and he picked up on it (most men would NEVER have done) and I wanted to tell him. I wanted to shout that I wanted him and him thinking I'm just a pal cuts in a way I didn't envisage but I couldn't because the pain of actual rejection would be more than my fragile heart could bear right now. He deserves someone. He's special and I don't know if he knows it. I'd like to be able to tell him how special he is but it isn't my place. I must continue to admire him from afar and hope that someone, who I could care for, thinks the same of me, or will because I'm sad today and I really shouldn't be. Being with him makes me smile and I didn't know that that would happen so soon after Keith went away but I'm not the girl for him and that's sad. It's hard.
I wanted today's post to be positive. It should be. My friend, who I really admire, told me today that she really enjoyed my first post and that she likes my writing style. It made me happy. I was going for a drink with my (not so) secret crush and I ate pizza with my lovely friend who never fails to make me smile but I am sad and I don't know what else the Universe can come up with to make me blue but I don't feel prepared to deal with it. I hope tomorrow brings smiles and something positive. It might!
Sx
Thursday 11 December 2008
Here goes nothing
Well, here is my first post. I've always thought that this was a rather self-indulgent pursuit and actually it probably is but I think it will be a healthy one - perhaps helpful to me and anyone who may read it. I have never been one for writing journals, though I do write. I am one of nature's talkers. I like to tell people my problems, triumphs, hopes. I have tried to write diaries but I manage to keep it up for a week at best and then I slip. I wonder if the thought of others reading it will spur me on or make me less inclined to post.
The title is kind of strange, I guess. It came from a book I am reading (Pacts with the Devil by Christopher S Hyatt et al..) but it bears relevance to my life of late. I have hope that I may have cause to change it to Kissing an Angel at some point but the devil is appropriate for now. I have been in a funk for months now ever since the only man I have not only ever loved but also can ever really conceive of loving, ended our relationship via text message with no explantion and nothing approaching sadness or an apology. I have loved Keith for over 7 years - though we haven't been together all that time and I have endured a lot to keep him in my life and it has all come to naught and I have to keep thinking of my own reasons why because he didn't think me worthy of an actual explanation. I know that he's emotionally stunted and truly a bad person. I know he enjoys hurting people and I wasn't enough of a victim for him. He thinks being unfaithful is funny - he actually laughs when he talks about getting away with it. In many ways he hates himself, and well he should, but not for the reasons that he should hate himself. He's proud of how cold and selfish he is.
The thing that scares me most about him is that he is the father of two young girls. He doesn't love them in the way that I understand fatherly love. He uses tham as an excuse to not do anything he can't be bothered to do from replying to text messages to working and especially committing to people. I worry about those children very much. He says he's worried about failing as a father but he already has and will continue to do so. He thinks that being a good father is about changing nappies and doing the washing but he has no real emotional investment in those children and they feel that. He doesn't realise that the place to start being a good father is to be a good person and he isn't that. I asked him how he would feel if someone did what he did to me to one of his daughters and he accused me of emotional blackmail and said it wouldn't work with him as he would remain unaffected if someone hurt one of them like this.
The thing that scares me most about me is that I'm still very much in love with the man I described above. I'd take him back in an instant if he returned. I'm always bothering Aphrodite and asking for her help in this matter. She is pointedly ignoring me - proof to my friends "pagan", atheist and Christian alike, that Aphrodite knows best. I remain unconvinced. I would love him if he grew another head so the small matter of Lucifer thinking Keith's a bit too evil for even him to employ is kind of insignificant. He's not coming back this time though and I have to deal with that and it's exhausting.
People forget or they see you smiling and assume you are all better. They pressure you in to doing things you don't want to do because they expect the old person back. They refuse to accept that the damage may be permanent because that doesn't suit their needs and sometimes they won't even tolerate a mention of his name. They are relieved that he's gone because they didn't like him and they think that you should be relieved too when actually you are broken and hurting and spend a lot of time crying. Dragging yourself in to work every day when everything there reminds you of him is enough without having to then hang out with folks you don't even like that much, for a few more hours, before you can get home and let go and let the damned pain out.
I miss him and I ache for him. It's a real physical pain and I don't have a clue how to move past it. I don't know what comes after this. I like someone at work. I doubt he feels the same but I know there's no room for me to love him so I know I shouldn't pursue it but I miss kisses and someone's arms around me or just knowing that someone wants me and I crave that. I long for it and I can't satisfy any of it. So I knit. I knit and I shop and I avoid alcohol as much as I can and I keep hoping for the day it hurts less, the night I don't cry myself to sleep.
This has been kind of depressing. I don't intend every post to be like this - that would be a rubbish tool for making myself feel better but this is where I'm at right now and I feel kind of unheard even though I talk and talk. I want to not have to talk and talk about him and how it hurts. I really want it not to hurt.
Sx
The title is kind of strange, I guess. It came from a book I am reading (Pacts with the Devil by Christopher S Hyatt et al..) but it bears relevance to my life of late. I have hope that I may have cause to change it to Kissing an Angel at some point but the devil is appropriate for now. I have been in a funk for months now ever since the only man I have not only ever loved but also can ever really conceive of loving, ended our relationship via text message with no explantion and nothing approaching sadness or an apology. I have loved Keith for over 7 years - though we haven't been together all that time and I have endured a lot to keep him in my life and it has all come to naught and I have to keep thinking of my own reasons why because he didn't think me worthy of an actual explanation. I know that he's emotionally stunted and truly a bad person. I know he enjoys hurting people and I wasn't enough of a victim for him. He thinks being unfaithful is funny - he actually laughs when he talks about getting away with it. In many ways he hates himself, and well he should, but not for the reasons that he should hate himself. He's proud of how cold and selfish he is.
The thing that scares me most about him is that he is the father of two young girls. He doesn't love them in the way that I understand fatherly love. He uses tham as an excuse to not do anything he can't be bothered to do from replying to text messages to working and especially committing to people. I worry about those children very much. He says he's worried about failing as a father but he already has and will continue to do so. He thinks that being a good father is about changing nappies and doing the washing but he has no real emotional investment in those children and they feel that. He doesn't realise that the place to start being a good father is to be a good person and he isn't that. I asked him how he would feel if someone did what he did to me to one of his daughters and he accused me of emotional blackmail and said it wouldn't work with him as he would remain unaffected if someone hurt one of them like this.
The thing that scares me most about me is that I'm still very much in love with the man I described above. I'd take him back in an instant if he returned. I'm always bothering Aphrodite and asking for her help in this matter. She is pointedly ignoring me - proof to my friends "pagan", atheist and Christian alike, that Aphrodite knows best. I remain unconvinced. I would love him if he grew another head so the small matter of Lucifer thinking Keith's a bit too evil for even him to employ is kind of insignificant. He's not coming back this time though and I have to deal with that and it's exhausting.
People forget or they see you smiling and assume you are all better. They pressure you in to doing things you don't want to do because they expect the old person back. They refuse to accept that the damage may be permanent because that doesn't suit their needs and sometimes they won't even tolerate a mention of his name. They are relieved that he's gone because they didn't like him and they think that you should be relieved too when actually you are broken and hurting and spend a lot of time crying. Dragging yourself in to work every day when everything there reminds you of him is enough without having to then hang out with folks you don't even like that much, for a few more hours, before you can get home and let go and let the damned pain out.
I miss him and I ache for him. It's a real physical pain and I don't have a clue how to move past it. I don't know what comes after this. I like someone at work. I doubt he feels the same but I know there's no room for me to love him so I know I shouldn't pursue it but I miss kisses and someone's arms around me or just knowing that someone wants me and I crave that. I long for it and I can't satisfy any of it. So I knit. I knit and I shop and I avoid alcohol as much as I can and I keep hoping for the day it hurts less, the night I don't cry myself to sleep.
This has been kind of depressing. I don't intend every post to be like this - that would be a rubbish tool for making myself feel better but this is where I'm at right now and I feel kind of unheard even though I talk and talk. I want to not have to talk and talk about him and how it hurts. I really want it not to hurt.
Sx
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