I want to write each of their stories, their stories from my perspective, but as time passes there seems less to say, the things which felt so powerful and indelible at the time don’t even seem worth the effort of typing.
A relationship which lasted 4 years has left me with only a few memories.
Walking along the cliff top in West Wales, bleak and beautiful. Swimming in the sea in St Lucia, the colour of the sea almost emerald, barely speaking to anyone else for 10 days, but when I did, his bad mood. The holiday starting with us not speaking due to an argument 2 weeks earlier. We had decided to still go on the holiday, I believed I could turn up at the airport and would be able to fake happiness. I couldn’t. I don’t remember the flight being tense although I can only assume it was. I do remember the first day, breakfast at separate times, lunch at separate times, a day spent apart. By the following morning the atmosphere was unbearable, somehow we both started to cry, the atmosphere broke and the holiday was one of the best I have had. Swimming in the afternoon rain, afternoon tea and banana cake, cocktails way too early in the day, Thirtysomething being repeated on the TV
Our first trip to Iceland was cold and beautiful, we saw the sights, but he preferred to spend the evening watching porn on the hotel TV, far more liberated than the catholic countries we normally visited. He was easy to be with, easy to talk with. He was tall, his arms surrounded me, the sex was conventionally experimental, food, dressing up, nothing risky, and I can only assume satisfying but I can’t really remember.
He once tried to run me off the M4 , playing cat and mouse at 90mph from Newport to Swindon, I was shaken. On another occasion he pinned me down and held his fist to my face, he didn’t hurt me. On another he turned up at my flat , we argued, he left and took my door keys with him, he had been menacing and threatening,I phoned him, he just laughed, I didn’t know what to do, I called the police, while I was on the phone he came back to my flat and sat laughing at my fear of him, he didn’t believe I was on the phone to the police, I think he cut me off, they called back, he left, leaving the keys.
We later regained our friendship. We went on holidays as friends, he came on holiday with me when my unreliable boyfriend was supposed to be there. On occasions he became angry and jealous and bitter, but despite this has been a good friend.
I am attracted to intensity, rightly or wrongly I accept there are two sides to
that coin.
Almost everything I recall about our relationship seems to be cloaked in feelings of isolation, all the memories are of being together alone
A relationship which lasted 4 years has left me with only a few memories.
Walking along the cliff top in West Wales, bleak and beautiful. Swimming in the sea in St Lucia, the colour of the sea almost emerald, barely speaking to anyone else for 10 days, but when I did, his bad mood. The holiday starting with us not speaking due to an argument 2 weeks earlier. We had decided to still go on the holiday, I believed I could turn up at the airport and would be able to fake happiness. I couldn’t. I don’t remember the flight being tense although I can only assume it was. I do remember the first day, breakfast at separate times, lunch at separate times, a day spent apart. By the following morning the atmosphere was unbearable, somehow we both started to cry, the atmosphere broke and the holiday was one of the best I have had. Swimming in the afternoon rain, afternoon tea and banana cake, cocktails way too early in the day, Thirtysomething being repeated on the TV
Our first trip to Iceland was cold and beautiful, we saw the sights, but he preferred to spend the evening watching porn on the hotel TV, far more liberated than the catholic countries we normally visited. He was easy to be with, easy to talk with. He was tall, his arms surrounded me, the sex was conventionally experimental, food, dressing up, nothing risky, and I can only assume satisfying but I can’t really remember.
He once tried to run me off the M4 , playing cat and mouse at 90mph from Newport to Swindon, I was shaken. On another occasion he pinned me down and held his fist to my face, he didn’t hurt me. On another he turned up at my flat , we argued, he left and took my door keys with him, he had been menacing and threatening,I phoned him, he just laughed, I didn’t know what to do, I called the police, while I was on the phone he came back to my flat and sat laughing at my fear of him, he didn’t believe I was on the phone to the police, I think he cut me off, they called back, he left, leaving the keys.
We later regained our friendship. We went on holidays as friends, he came on holiday with me when my unreliable boyfriend was supposed to be there. On occasions he became angry and jealous and bitter, but despite this has been a good friend.
I am attracted to intensity, rightly or wrongly I accept there are two sides to
that coin.Almost everything I recall about our relationship seems to be cloaked in feelings of isolation, all the memories are of being together alone
No comments:
Post a Comment