Written – and now maybe finally got the monkey off my back
As I sit here now about to write down my inner, most darkest thoughts; whilst digesting a whole pack of Bakewell tarts. Yes that’s right you heard me correctly, Bakewell tarts, you see I’ve just recently had a test and it turns out that I am still allergic to nuts, all nuts except almonds, so you see I’m having a field day, in a sort of eating protest at my 20odd years of exclusion. It’s such a relief, I used to shun bakers everywhere, bolt from the hair salon washbasin when my hair stylist so much as even looked at washing my hair with the marzipan smelling shampoo. But now those dark days have gone. And the taste is to die for. Actually maybe wrong choice of words there.
Anyway, down to business, It’s been a tough few months, I wont lie, I mean, my gosh; why on this earth did I buy white bedding do you know how many times you have to wash that shit to get that orange imprint out? My electric bill is going to cost me a fortune. I mean can you just imagine and were taking hot washes too. My word.
And then there is the stress ‘s and strains of single life again; you know, coming in from a night out, getting into bed, pulling down the duvet and there is black eye liner and lipstick all over the pillow from the night before and you have to quickly switch pillows with the one from your side of the bed before you new prospective mate see’s.
And then of course there is when they start to get a little too close for comfort and they start leaving things at your apartments in-between visits; those wirily girls aren’t silly you know, I’m sure they do it, just so you get caught out if you try being naughty; like leaving their hair scrunchey on your bedside table or their polka dot umbrella in your hallway or the ultimate sin, which I have to say; often spells out the beginning of the end when this happens, they try and stake claim to you and leave their toothbrush in your toothbrush pot. I hate that! That’s my toothbrush pot; something’s just aren’t for sharing.
Ok, ok, maybe I’ve been slightly over zealous with this being back on the market thing and maybe my choice of company isn’t always the wisest choice, but all things being equal, I’m not really a happy bunny and it’s been away of keeping me from thinking about how I really feel.
I mean, I know I’m very fortunate in many a way. Like I’m not a gingerbread man and I don’t have a pack of hungry wolves waiting outside my door and I think im pretty safe in the feeling my parents won’t swop me for some magic beans or a cow but I guess what it is, is that; I have a broken heart.
There I said it. Yes, it’s true I am a real man after all. I’m not Tinman, contrary to some public belief. I do have a heart.
I saw her the other day. I’d been away for a few months down in Australia at the start of the year, you know, to clear my head, get a sun tan and eat ribs, lots of ribs, yumm, ribs and on my first day back in London, on my first day at 9am in the morning on a packed central line train somewhere in between Oxford circus and Bond street, I saw her, we ended up in the same bloody carriage. I mean what are the chances? She looked as beautiful as ever, in this cute little brown dress, with the boots that I’d bought her when we were out in New York together, Her hair was slightly darker but she still smelled the same. You know when you spend time with someone and they have their smell. I remembered how it used to be when we used to curl up in bed together and go to sleep and how happy we used to be. I loved they way she smelled especially her hair, I wanted to live in her hair. Like a nit. I loved it that much.
We spoke for no more than 30 seconds. She was getting off at the next stop. I could tell she didn’t want to be there but she took her little white headphones out and with a, “What do you want James?” answered a few of my questions.
How are you? What have you been up to? Are you seeing anyone? I wasn’t really looking for the answer I got from that one though.
She’d moved on, has a new boyfriend. She said she’s never been happier. And with that I tried to give her a hug as she left the train but she was having none of it and with that she was gone walking away down the platform not looking back even the once, my heart sunk and I slumped back into my chair and got my iphone out to pretend I was busy, doing what I could to hold myself together.
I can honestly say, I’ve never been more crushed in my life,
I mean I know I caused all this myself, I’d made my bed and now I’d have to lay in it. With the left behind fake eyelashes and all. But it’s still no easier pill to swallow. I was a wreck, thank god I was only modelling trousers that day when I finally did make it into work.
For a while I have to say I turned to chocolate, as I knew that woudn’t hurt me, but then even that did in the end. It gave me a fat face and I got told off, so I can’t even do that anymore and have now been sentenced to the gym every morning and night, so I don’t even have time for dates anymore.
I go through phases of thinking about texting or calling, even typing her name in to google to see what comes up, as of course now I’m blocked from her facebook and her twitter but I just can’t get the girl out of my head. Almost torturing myself further.
Everything reminds me of her, every girl I’ve met since, I just compare to her, too tall, too small, not funny enough, too much make up. Oh god she’s wearing a sovereign; quick run!!
I would give anything to turn back the clock and put things right, but it’s all too late now. She’s with Dave.
I know I have to leave her be and move on myself, harder said than done but maybe now with writing this I can draw a line in the sand and hopefully one day meet someone new, a nice girl with manners, that I can give a cute fluffy name too, that won’t have hair extensions or sit on my nice clean white sheets with their dirty jeans on they have been wearing on the tube all day long, and maybe one day, I might even without being forced share my toothbrush holder once more.
I guess, stranger things have happened…