Please allow me to be self-deprecating for a moment. It’s be a rough weekend… Finalised last night by a text message from my young gentleman at 8:30pm on a Sunday night that read “Right now. Threesome?” Deleted. If there’s a suicide emoji, please insert.
Do you ever get the feeling that your life is playing out like a scene from a movie that you can’t quite remember watching? It’s clichéd and inevitable. Or is it? Kismet? Perhaps it’s the result of self-manifestation? Who knows… but right now I feel like every minute it compounds and as the minutes turn into hours, I feel more encumbered by my emotions about what has happened and what I want to happen, which isn’t happening right now. There have been two recent developments that have thrown into the spot light the extent of my feelings, which have been buried for a little while. An enlightening conversation with Mr. Darcy that made me revaluate how freely I give away parts of myself and an incident, which highlighted the very reasons I don’t.
Imagine you’re standing at the top of hill, surrounded by vast expanses of space. Rolling shades of green as far as you can see. You can feel the sun, warm on your skin and the gentle wind blowing tendrils of hair across your face. He reaches over and softy places them behind your ear while you look into his dark emerald eyes. Scene set? Good. Better than “I was at my desk, he was 10,0000 miles away and I was answering client phone calls in between text messages.” This is the script of my life as it’s playing out;
S: You don’t let anyone in though?
Mr. Darcy: I don’t think you do either. You pull the plug awfully quick.
S: How confronting. I don’t think I’m like that at all, but apparently you’re correct because I had to ask someone. What do you want from me?
Mr. Darcy: I want to see you when I’m back. My life won’t always be this complicated.
S: And then what? Hand in hand at the park pushing my daughter on the swings. C’mon handsome, think practically.
Mr. Darcy: You think I wouldn’t buy into that? Into the wonderful life you have constructed?
S: It’s difficult to place you into the normal parts though. I’m not sure how you’d go.
Mr. Darcy: Well you’ve just never seen me in that way before I guess.
He leant over and pressed his lips to mine. I felt a surge of adrenaline and weightlessness all at the same time. No. That part didn’t happen. I just kept on working like a plebe and he kept on living his life. But apparently he was right and I was wrong. I didn’t really see him like that. I asked people who know me really well and was surprised to learn, I don’t give much away. So why don’t I?
Something shit happened recently. Maybe shit isn’t the right way to put it, because it would be wonderful, if it didn’t involve me, but unfortunately it does to a degree. It’s not an appropriate forum to discuss specific details but if ever, in the very pit of my soul, there was anything left, it died and I cried. A lot. That was the part that was always going to be inevitable. People inadvertantly hurt each other, they’re not right for each other and they move on. This is a part of life and a part I have come to accept over the past few years. Is it not though, perfectly acceptable to conclude a rational person would want to shield themselves from such things? I thought after all this time I was ready. I couldn’t help but feel like I was standing alone in the darkness reaching out for someone to take my hand. Someone did. All it took was a text message and a surprise delivery from two of this world’s greatest treasures to snap me out of it and make me see. The well timed text said “Cheer up, Cunt.” And then these came for me today;
So I’ve realised two crucial things. One, I literally have the most amazing support network a gal could ask for and there’s nothing I can’t face without them, so to those who listened to me cry and who contacted me to see if I was ok, thank you. I appreciate it. And two, it is but a moment in time that will pass. If I hadn’t let myself be vulnerable, I wouldn’t get to gaze frequently on my lifes greatest achievement. My beautiful daughter. So what next? I will look forward to the next time I next feel his arms around me, if it comes, with a new outlook and a slightly less guarded façade. Because what’s the worst that can happen? If not, thats fine too. Because I’m going to be ok.