…an out of this world, spectacularly brilliant event.
And that’s putting it mildly 😉
Of course I was late in arriving because when I wanted to leave, the HG thought to have a discussion about the merits of one director’s take on the aeroplane designer in Flight of the Phoenix vs the other one. Like i could even remotely be bothered who directed the film!! The only directors whose work I know is Tim Burton and Guy Richie. Go figure.
Anyway, I cut that shit short sharpish and left to go to the place where my heart and soul finds rest. That used to be my house. Alas, that space has been taken over by the HG. At this moment, he’s parking off in my effing lounge watching a show on my effing drive. And it would be severely petty for me to tell him to go to his room – not so? so I’m sitting here, seething, but I’ll keep quiet. Damn! He’s even derailing my post about the spectacular night I had!!
No more of the HG. From here on out, just me and C, and a bit about the baby’s leaving at the end.
Back to the evening. When I was about 5 minutes away, I gave C a call – over and above the other calls I gave him to just confirm the directions ostensibly, but mostly just to hear his voice. Yes, I realise I sound like a teenager. A 45 year old teenager that’s loving EVERY MINUTE of this experience!! The last call was to warn him of my imminent arrival – when I got there, the bath water was run, towel ready, jacks poured – no woman was ever this spoilt!
Now for the dressing. The dress I took with me has been in my cupboard for about 4 years already. Wore it before, but always with something covering up the cleavage. Cleavage not being something I’m inclined to display to the world at large. That all changed on Friday night though. On Friday night, I displayed to my heart’s content. Why? I’m going to have to say that it has everything to do with how C perceives me. When he looks at me, it’s as if I change into somebody desirable. Somebody so sexy and attractive and beautiful, I can’t not be all those things. I can’t say that I’ll be flashing all and sundry from here on out, but when I’m with C, I can’t see that as being a problem. Since I’m not dressing for the rest of the world, I’m dressing for him. And hell, he’s a bloke, and most blokes likes cleavage. Added to that the fact that he does not only like the cleavage, but everything else as well, and you have a recipe for success. Or disaster, all depending on your point of view.
We went to a wonderful restaurant, and we had a wonderful meal. The most gorgeous creme brulee for desert – the perfect end to the perfect evening. We giggled, we joked we laughed we talked. It really was the most perfect evening. I could not have asked for a better companion by my side. He dressed like a gentleman with a proper shirt and the coolest tie – Van Morrison on the tie I’ll have you know!
His house was another revelation. All the detritus of a bachelor were cleaned away, the floors swept and washed, dishes done – he went all out! Lovely bunch of roses in a vase on the dining room table – my guy knows how to spoil a lady, that’s for sure.
All this serves to remind me that I have a real keeper on my hands. The one man that the Universe has seemingly picked out just for me. And that means that I would be doing him a dishonour if I did not give all of myself. I can’t be holding anything back. I can’t be scared to be happy. I can’t with-hold any part of my psyche. He deserves to have all of me. To that effect I made a conscious decision to, if not breaking down the walls, at least lower the portcullis over the moat and feeding the piranhas on a different diet to pacify them. Every journey has to start somewhere. And I’m on a journey of discovery. Not only of this wondrous person that is so completely prepared to share his life with me, but also of myself. I’m finding out that I do, after all, have the capacity to love. Not that I’m allowed to actually do anything, but what we do do, we do together. Be it sitting in the lounge farting around online, or, the one time we did cook, we did it together.
Of course, loo breaks are not done together – we’re not quite that bad!
But every day I hear this man’s voice, every message we share, every memory we make leads me onto another path. a path that we were destined to share at some stage of our lives – it was foretold.
I was thinking the other day. I’ve had a great love with the American. I’ve had something that could maybe have turned into a great love with Rusty. The ex, well, he was just an infatuation that went too far. He will always be part of my life, I can not get away from that, and he influenced my life in a very big way, but, now that I look back on it, I can’t liken what we had to anything I’ve since experienced. I’ve kissed a lot of frogs, that all, bar none, turned into complete toads.
And in hindsight, which is always perfect, I can see the path I had to take. The words I had to hear, the faces I had to see, the experiences I had to have – all shaping me, guiding me, teaching me, bringing me to this perfect junction in my life. Four years ago I would have been complacent about it. Ten years ago I would have walked away from it. Fifteen years ago I would not even have thought about it. But now. At this point in time, I’m grateful. I’m humbled. And I’m happy. And completely, head over heels, in love.
I can quite recommend that state of affairs. And I can do it because I’ve weathered all those storms. I’ve kissed all those toads. I’ve experienced the bad. So that I could recognise the good, and not turn my back on it.
Of course, my life outside of the relationship is somewhat up in the air. Fifty/fifty chance of me moving and living in a completely different place next year this time. But I have faith in the path I’m on. And I know I will be allright, no matter what twists and turns I might have to ford. I’ve found the home of my soul, and I can be at peace now.
Enough of the gushing now.
The baby left for Belgium yesterday. It was a tearful good bye. Both my babies living in foreign climes now. Both completely out of my scope of help. Both utterly on their own, with help very far away. My poor mom did not take the departure too well. The kid in question was maybe the biggest attention seeker, but he was also the one that showed the most love. Now all poor mom has left in the way of grand kids are my sister’s two very much unmanagable rugrats. I can but hope that my young man will be able to go the distance. That he will be allowed to spread his wings and fly. That he will not be bogged down by the arsewipe he took with. But even that lesson he has to learn on his own. Some things just work better in real life experience, because the punch it packs is so much harder then. I wish you well my son.
I have been tardy in reading everybody’s stuff. In my defense, it’s been an action packed two weeks to say the least!! I will get to all the things I have missed, just give me a chance.
Hope you enjoy tonight’s tunes…
May your days be long upon the earth.