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my April story: back to where i was
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20-04-10
“What are you doing?”
I didn’t look up, but continued staring at the screen, flipping cards one by one, waiting for the three of spades, but it wouldn’t come. I checked the score again: 430. If the three didn’t appear I wouldn’t be able to merge those remaining, top 500, and then quit the game. Well, 551, because everyone knows it costs 50 when you restart, so you need 551 so you don’t drop back below 500.
“Seriously,” the woman repeated. “What are you doing?”
The last card --the six of diamonds-- turned. I sighed and looked up.
*
28-12-07
I put down my glass and heaved a sigh. I knew my sister and her husband were watching, waiting for some kind of reaction, wanting me to voice some withheld feeling, like it could help. Well, they were going to be disappointed, unless no reaction was what they were seeking. I deliberately didn’t look at them, but remained focused on the screen, on the film my sister chose a few hours ago, full of characters and events I really couldn’t recall. It had been a week already. How was that possible? I excused myself and went to the toilet.
*
20-04-10
The woman was silhouetted against the window, the sun blindingly full of life. I squinted and lifted a hand to my eyes, not that it made much difference.
“Can I help?”
She said, “You’re not Sally.”
I mumbled, “No flies on you.”
She laughed.
“What?”
“Nothing. Well, I haven’t heard that since, what, the eighties?”
“My decade, maybe.”
“Really? That’s a little sad.”
I lifted my second hand to my face, but it didn’t help. “Wow. You don’t mince your words, do you?”
“Why should I? Who’s got the time?”
I checked my watch but thought better of it.
*
04-03-08
I couldn’t believe he’d done it. Seriously? A blind date? What was I, fourteen again, stuck alone in my room every weekend, every night, playing with myself while reading books and dreaming of better things in the future? The idea was ludicrous. Although it wasn’t, not really, and I knew it. I just didn’t want to admit it. I mean, who would happily raise their hand and admit to being a stay-at-home suffering from selfitus? Very attractive. Made me wonder all the more who would agree to a blind date with me. I pretended that’s why I didn’t go.
*
20-04-10
The woman nodded over my shoulder at the pc screen. I didn’t turn, knowing what she was staring at: the very thing I’d been staring at these last (I glanced up at the wall-clock) ninety minutes, almost. Really? How did this happen? Well, of course, I knew, but still.
She said, “Solitaire?”
I nodded.
“Any good?”
“At playing with myself?” I spoke without thinking, but kept my face poker-still.
She nodded, then leaned forward, stretching around me to begin a new game. She said, “I think we all have our moments.”
“Probably.”
She said, “So what’s your mental disability?”
*
17-07-08
Me, my best friend’s husband, his brother, someone from their work, his mate, and someone that nobody knew how they met, dolled ourselves up in the tiny holiday apartment before heading down to the bar. It was day four, and all but my best friend’s husband and I had kissed some previously unknown woman, although not everyone could remember names, let alone numbers. That was one reason I hadn’t. Another was that I didn’t want to. I’d rather sit in the corner with my best friend’s husband talking about his family. And slowly think less about my lack of.
*
20-04-10
She watched the cards flip over, dangling the carrot of another game in front of me. I knew I couldn’t resist, but didn’t want her to see how out of control I was. Despite an implied understanding, I didn’t know her, how she felt, or why she was here. Surely it wasn’t to play solitaire.
“410,” she said. “That’s good.”
“It’s okay.”
“What’s your target?”
“Hmm?”
“You have a figure, right? A target to reach before you can even consider quitting?”
I started to shake my head, but she laughed, touching my shoulder as she pulled back a little.
*
21-12-08
I couldn’t look at my younger sister, so keen and excited, her eyes peppered with the joys of love and the possibilities within her new engagement. But I knew I had to if I was to convince her what I said wasn’t just words, wasn’t just some cowardly reaction to the difficulty of love, but was how I truly felt. I repeated the words in my head. Should I add the doubt of a “think”, in that this is how I think I feel? No. I was done trying to find love. I needed to try and find me.
*
20-04-10
The woman leaned back. “Seeing your score, and how frazzled you appear, I’m guessing your key target is 500?”
“Nope.”
“Ahh,” she sighed, grinning. “So you do have one.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Yeah, you did.”
I shrugged. “Who are you?”
She shook her head, tilting it to the right, studying me. “You really are frazzled, aren’t you?”
“I don’t think-”
“I’ve got it,” she said, clapping her hands and almost dancing a little. “It’s the 50 that threw me. Your target’s 551.”
I rolled my eyes. “I really don’t know what you’re-”
“Give it up, bub, you’re busted.”
*
14-02-09
I unplugged the phone, took a shower, slipped on some lazy clothes and studied my wall of DVDs, title after title, keen to find just one that didn’t include even an nth of romance. But I could recall a smattering of something within every one. What had I been thinking? Maybe it was time for a clear out? But many still appealed, and I knew I could enjoy them if I was in a better space mentally. And such a thing was possible, and would happen, if only I could go easy on myself, knowing I simply needed time.
*
20-04-10
I had to smile, and was a little surprised to find it came easily; then was a little disappointed that I’d been surprised. Should I expect to frown?
She stepped in and touched my shoulder, laughing and closing her eyes as she pulled away again. “You look like a teenager caught with his hand down his pants.”
“I do?”
Her eyes opened wider, almost popping, and she snorted with laughter, covering her mouth as she turned away. “I am so sorry,” she mumbled.
“No need,” I said, chuckling now, blushing a little as I watched her do the same.
*
19-07-09
I woke one morning wanting to be anywhere but where I was, so called a taxi, trundled to the station, and caught the first train out of there, chancing upon my first return to the city where I studied for my degree. The same city where I was last in a long-term, at least somewhat meaningful relationship, with a girl I even considered marrying. I flashed constant memories as I crawled round all our old pubs, even thinking I saw her in the street through one particularly smoky window. It wasn’t. I continued drinking and woke somewhere completely different.
*
20-04-10
I sat watching her for a moment, intrigued by her smile and the way she tucked her hair behind her ears, only for it to drop back in front of her face. She reminded me of somebody, although I felt sure it was somebody I hadn’t seen before. What kind of madness was that?
She said, “What are you thinking?”
I shook my head. “Men never know.”
“I thought it was all sex,” she suggested, her eyes widening a little.
I nodded. “It used to be. Well, more than now, anyway.”
“Why, what happened?” she asked, touching my knee.
*
01-09-09
A drunken friend flopped down on top of me in the park, mumbling something about knowing he’d find me here one day, it being only a matter of time before I again felt the lure of the loins. I pushed him away, un-creased the corner of the page of the book I was reading, and rolled over, huffing something about enjoying the sun and the story. He laughed and punched me, gesticulating at all the late summer girls, he called them, parading before heading back to school, desperate for horn-dogs like us to ogle them. I carried on reading.
*
20-04-10
“You don’t want to hear this.”
She shook her head. “Don’t make assumptions about me.”
“I’m trying not to,” I said.
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing. Everything. I don’t know. It never gets any easier, does it?”
She sighed and turned, saw a spare chair and pulled it closer, sitting on it.
Shuffling it forward, she reached for my hands. “You don’t know me.”
“And then some.”
She laughed. “I’m just some stranger who chanced into your office?”
“Something like that,” I smiled.
“And you believe that?”
“We believe what we want to believe.”
She nodded. “That’s a start.”
*
31-12-09
I was at the party, I even got dressed up, making an effort, mostly because my three friends demanded it of me, but I was only attending to be with them. I had no interest in finding somebody to kiss at midnight, and almost choked with laughter when my sister suggested that maybe, just maybe, something magical might happen... that my one and only could be at the same party... thinking the same thoughts... and we would bump into each other at the stroke of love. Of course it didn’t happen, but then I was actively hoping against it.
*
20-04-10
She nodded slowly, so slowly I almost didn’t notice. “Who makes your decisions?”
“I ain’t no momma’s boy, sweetheart.”
She laughed and leaned back, closing her eyes, the corners wrinkling just a little, exposing a little of her life, maybe, and brought her hands to her chin. Through them she nodded. “You know I didn’t mean it that way.”
“I do.”
“Good.” She leaned back. “We all whine about our lives, about things we have to do, saying we had no choice.”
“But we do.”
“We do,” she nodded. “As much as we might not like to admit it.”
*
01-04-10
I left my parent’s house in a sulk, surprised and disappointed at how easily they still wind me up. But I guess that’s the thing about families? How they know which buttons to push? And when? And how, exactly? Was I surprised they took the news badly? No. Had I hoped they might be a little supportive? Honestly? No. But was I purposefully antagonising them by actively turning my back on the improbable, fanciful dream of romance, of children, grandchildren? No. These things simply are when you choose to believe in --and commit to-- a life of celibacy.
*
20-04-10
She said, “What is it?”
“My question?”
“Yes.”
I sighed. “It’s: what don’t I want to admit?”
“Which is easy.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely.” She nodded, shrugged. “I’m not real.”
“Not real?”
“No.”
“Damn.”
“Well, yeah.”
“You’re lovely.”
“I am?”
“Sure. Easy on the eye. And tongue.”
“The tongue?”
“I didn’t mean-”
“I know what you mean.”
“That’s the other thing.”
“The ease of conversation?”
“Exactly. You get me.”
“I’m in you.”
“Hmm.”
“But I’m not the first. Nor will I be the last.”
“No?”
“No. And that’s the point. You fell asleep playing solitaire and imagined me. But with reason.”
*
20-04-10
“You know why?”
I sighed. “To show me I still have an interest.”
“In the ladies,” she laughed, pinching my knee. Then she got serious. “Someone’s about to knock at your door.”
“In the real world?”
“As real as it gets.”
“What does that mean?”
She shook her head. “We’ll leave that for another time.”
I rolled my eyes. “Okay. But who’s coming?” I asked, starting to panic, then suddenly somehow calmed right down, feeling then seeing her holding my hand. “Is she a honey-tongued lovely like you?”
She laughed. “Well, I don’t know about that. Wake up now.”
*
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