So here it comes, the big crescendo…part 1

Posted on January 13, 2013


On Friday night I met up with ‘THE GREAT LOVE’.

This is the guy that I pretty much fell for the night I met him. Saturday March 10th 2007. The day after I got back from Morocco with my best mate, having lost tonnes of weight from food poisoning in Essaouira. The day that I wrote an advert on Gumtree in the personals [see a later gumtree personals ad I wrote in 2009 here].

March 10th 2007. The day I was so down, that I was drinking by myself in the afternoon and suddenly found myself in the queue to Brixton Academy to see Nine Inch Nails with a gabba head who had a massive packet of really strong pills. And ended up here:

DMZ 2nd Birthday Bash

The Great Love (feels weird calling him that. I’m still kind of on a journey to establishing that this is what he is) found me on tthis Brixton dancefloor, and have been in and out of each other’s lives since. We can’t put each other out of our heads. We’ve tried to date, to fuck, to be friends, to be together like any other normal couple who feel this way would be. But we can never ever make it work. Between the two of us we’re this massive ball of insecurity and head space. I’m admittedly overly demanding and have too many expectations and he’s so freaked out by the all consuming overwhelming way we feel when we’re in each other’s lives that he’ll fuck things up and let me down, that that’s exactly what he does. Over and over.

I’ve lived abroad, i’ve lived with another boyfriend I dearly loved (but in a totally different way) and i’ve been through every possible conceivable emotion about this guy, and as a direct  – and indirect – consequence of this person, whether he’s in my life or out of it. I’ve always known he is deep down in my belly the great love of my life, but not always been comfortable admitting it.

He’s quite a bit younger than me. And its probably the main reason why we haven’t ever really been able to make it work. Don’t get me wrong, we look good together. You’d never know there’s an age gap. But one of the main reasons we connect on a deep level is the complicated issues that give us turmoil – he’s adopted and I was sent away from home when I was 7. We both have this hideous darkness that we’ve been avoiding dealing with, only I have 7 years on him. And whilst he’s far more mature and self aware than anyone else I could imagine being at his age, that’s a lot of years difference in terms of our own self discovery. I pretty much have 7 years of work that i’ve done on myself, that he hasn’t had the privilege of having yet.

So how did I end up seeing him Friday night? I can’t even tell my friends that I have. The disapproving concern in their eyes would kill me.

We’d not seen or spoken to each other since May when we’d kind of agreed to finally give things a proper go after much dispute and anxiety, and false starts…and then within a week stopped talking to each other. And I genuinely thought I’d never speak to him again. This time I was over it. This time was the end.

Or so I thought.

But I was moving on. We couldn’t make it work and that was that. My philosophical stance on the whole thing was good. After 6 months of solitude and therapy and personal growth, I signed up to a dating website, started chatting to some guys and lined up some dates. I’m about to go on one in a minute so i’d best hurry up! But you know, things have been looking up. Ok so yes ‘The Great Love’ had been on my mind a bit of late – Christmas and New Year will do that to ya – and i’d been fantasising about things being okay between us, imagining meeting up for a coffee, understanding each other better, having a true conversation about why we keep hurting each other. Something a bit healing, I guess.

Alright, and maybe i’d accidentally imagined him being with me in the shower one day before work. Oops. #

But those tend to be my most ‘sticky’ thoughts. In marketing terms people! Look, I am going into hospital next week for reconstructive knee surgery. It’s fair to imagine I might have wanted to get some closure – or titillation – before going under.

But on Tuesday or Wednesday last week there he was on Skype.

We were online at the same time, and suddenly I felt like I had a window to make my peace with him.

So I did.

I felt in control, I felt objective, I felt strong – zen even. I suggested I’d like to be friends in the future sometime. That if I couldn’t have him as a partner, that I wanted him in my life, accessible in some way. Not this not talking to each other thing. The not talking to each other thing makes me feel too sad.

He agreed. He said he wanted to have a proper chat. Said he’d missed me too. Apologised. Said he thought about me often, that it killed him seeing me on Skype every day but couldn’t bring himself to disconnect from me. Oddly I never saw him on Skype every day myself. I think I would have had to block him.

I’d thought maybe we could have a proper chat in a few weeks after my operation. I didn’t really know if I wanted to. It felt a bit dangerous. It felt like it could potentially be putting myself back in that place, a place where my own feelings would be held subject to the actions of another, someone with proven ability to leave me feeling abandoned. Upon mulling it over I thought that I would stop thinking about it and leave it till the operation had passed.

But then Friday came about. He popped up on chat and asked me if I was okay, he’d realised that maybe I was making peace with him pre-operation and he joined the dots and insisted I talk to him about what’s going on. He was worried, he’d said. That he’d realised, if the shoe was on the other foot and it was him going into hospital, i’d be the first person he’d think about making peace with. In that moment, I knew I was going to see him.


Posted in: History, Journal, Random