| Current mood: |  rejuvenated |
| Current music: | Dead Man's Rope::Sting |
Muhahhahh! I am free!
- Sorry, let the inner demon out for a sec. I'll just push him back in....
*much hammering and groaning, possibly thunder and cats sqealing for good measure, a la Goon Show sound FX*
....'Kay, better now.;)
Hehehe.
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Much time has passed, 'tis now midnight. I've had much needed sleep *big satisfied smile* and some quality tv watching time where I don't have to feel guilty that I'm not working! And in a bit I'm going back upstairs to watch 'Sleepy Hollow' which I still haven't watched, despite the fact that we've had it on video for about six months!
When I'm lying in bed, which I probably do too much because I'm overly fond of sleep, I always think about him. His picture is next to my bed, that one I posted before. Not in a sexual way (or not always), just wondering how he is, what he's doing, whether he's alseep. It's so strange that I can have these powerful feelings for him and yet never have touched him, never have told him how I feel. Yet I feel the connection between us: I know when he's going to turn up sometimes. The last time he came into the pub for instance (I wrote about this-11/09/03), where we go for the quiz, which is close to where he lives. He just came in, sat at the bar, talking to his daughter who was working that night (although I hadn't realised it). Kelly heard him when she went up to the bar and said he sounded down and depressed. But the point is that in the back of my mind I knew he was going to turn up. It's like that with him sometimes.
It's an odd kind of connection - unspoken but known, by both of us. I wish I'd written down what happened at the prom when it happened but I was too depressed at the time and it's three years+ ago now, so my memeory is hazy. But that night...
No one said anything, but everyone knew, his friends and mine.
He came over with a look on his face like he knew he had to come to me. And then ruined it because being stared at by everyone and the loud music was breaking both our abilities to have a proper conversation, mine never being very good at the best of times. Mrs Hetherington had the right idea: shut up and dance. But he used his veto on that one, and I don't blame him, coz he never would have live it down. It would have followed him home and back to school as well. I don't have any idea if his wife cares at all about what he does, but she probably wouldn't have appreciated her husband being grist for the rumour mill.
But I'm not going to talk about her. I can't hate her because I don't know her and I have a deeply held feeling that it would be immoral of me to hate her just because of who she's married to. I probably wasn't cut out for affairs. I don't think R. is either.
So, Kelly and I on Sunday....
If it hasn't become obvious from previous posts, sometimes I don't actually enjoy going to the pub with my friends that much. We go to the pub down the road from our old school, near to where Emma lives, a bit further from where Kelly lives and half an hour's walk up some truly evil Sheffield hills from where I live. But we've been doing it since the last year of school. We go for the quizzes they have on Sundays and Tuesdays, which we're not very good at but have a go at anyway. It gives us a chance to see each other and Kelly a chance to ogle her old men eye-candy (she's like me, but without the taste;))
Now, it's great to see them sometimes. Sometimes it's just what I need, but sometimes it depesses me utterly for reasons I'm not quite sure of, even now.
My friend Emma is one of those people who talk obsessively about themselves and honestly think that you'll always be interested. She brings her family, friends and boyfriend to the pub with her. In fact she just sent me a text asking if she could bring another person I've never met to do the quiz with us. It's not that I mind all the time, in fact it doesn't bother me as much as it used to when we were at uni. Because I missed home and my mates so much when I was in Durham and when I would come, everything Emma and Kel said was a reminder that they were having a great time at uni, with their new friends and actually didn't like coming home that much. And bringing people that I don't know along shuts me up, because I'm pretty rubbish at talking to strangers. So if I was feeling bad I couldn't talk to my friends who I hadn't see or spoken to for two months, because Emma's perfect life had invaded us.
At the moment, as far as I can see, her life is going ok. She's got a temporary job that she likes and she's getting some experience working at the local primary school to help her out with her forthcoming application for a primary school teaching certificate. She's living at home, which, okay, she doesn't like, but every other weekend or so she goes to Nottingham to visit her boyfriend and her friends from uni. They're planning to get married and have lots of kids, which, besides being a teacher, is the one thing she wants most.
But she says she's depressed.
And she says it a lot.
She was always one to attention-seek, even more so at school. And people would always oblige, and give her the attention she was after. It pissed me off then, and it still does now. Probably because I had one other friend who acted like that, and she made four years of my life a hell I didn't realise was a hell until I got some real friends. My self-consciousness and self-doubt is probably partly due to her. But she was dyslexic and had family issues, so she got the attention. Despite the fact that I was the one with the talent. I was quiet though and at that time I was scared to be anything else.
But back to Emma:
I know people get depressed for all sorts of reasons, or for no reason at all. I know, I've been there too. And this is me being whiny: but no-one ever sent me to the doctor to be put on medication, no-one slept in my room to see that I didn't do myself any harm. In fact no-one really noticed at all. I've felt angry, depressed, frustrated, lonely etc etc for the last four or five years on and off. And I've felt suicidal, though I've never done anything about it. I've asked myself what I'm doing here and whether there's any point to staying and I've cut my hands and arms to prove that it hurts. And exactly one of my friends has ever had anythingh to say about it. She did tell me to go and see a doctor. (love you, Maria!)
I just get hurt by her stories, I'm not really sure why.
So anyway, last Sunday she made herself scarce for about fifteen minutes talking to her 17 year old friend Dan, who she's convinced fancies her (that's another thing - we never see all these people who fancy her so much and it always makes me feel about two inches high, no-one ever does that to me) and me and Kel had a really good, proper, friends talk. Which we don't do very often.
I was feeling kinda low, and when I feel like that I'm probably quite a challenge to be around. I want them to try and make me feel better, not just tell me to snap out of it. Talk to me, because that almost always makes me feel better, and in half an hour I'll be feeling like a selfish idiot because I was depressed.
we talked about men and how I feel inadequate because I don't have a boyfriend and most everyone else does - it's that pesky competitive streak again, I'm afraid. Kelly doesn't, as it happens, so it makes me feel better that I'm not the only one!
And we talked about R. She thinks I should email him soon if I miss him, because he probably misses me too and it's encouraging to hear stuff like that from Kelly, because she didn't usually express an opinion on him that much. It was good to hash over the old stuff that happened at school, just to reassure myself that it did happen, and take stock of things.
I said I'd forgotten it all now, didn't I?! But it was good at the time. It nourishes the soul I think, because I don't get connections like that with my friends as often as I feel I should. I have my mum for that pretty much, but I can't really talk to her about R., or only in a jokey way.
So connection was had. And we'll have to see if by some miraculous fortune it happens again on Sunday. But if Emma's friend does come (and it's not as if I can say no, is it?) don't hold your breath!
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