30/07/2010

Before BB went ‘to see his dad in Wales’, we had a day out.

“Let’s meet at 12 pm.”

OK. But at 12 pm on a weekday? Aren’t you working?

I still turned up anyway. Mostly because I was feeling randy. I don’t know what I was expecting at noon on a weekday, but there he was in his office wear. The only thing missing was his tie. I got in his car, he kissed me and I instantly forgot about what he was wearing. There is a way in which he works his tongue. Belted and ready to go I heard:

“First, I’ve got to meet a work colleague and give him his car keys,”

“Where is he?” I asked, just to be polite. I really didn’t care. I just wanted him to myself and the sooner we got rid of said colleague the better. He mentioned a town 47  miles away. My heart sunk in disappointment and slight apprehension. Why did I have the feeling that this was going to be like the other ‘car breaks’ day? Even worse, it’s started before I could get any sort of action. Still, I figured I had nothing to do so I tried to fake some mild enthusiasm for this ‘road trip’.  He turns the radio up a bit, it starts raining and Kings Of Leon come on. It’s Closer and suddenly all I can think of is Fish.

Perfect car. Perfect weather. Perfect song. Perfect moment. Wrong boy.

He drives along and we are talking about stuff.  Raoul Moat, how many sexual partner’s we’ve had, anal sex, our favourite food and so on. All this time I’m asking myself questions. Does he really live in my town? Why is his colleague so many miles away? What kind of job does he do exactly? Does he even work where he says he does? We get to the town and he tells me he has to hand over the keys to his colleague at a Sainsbury’s store near a certain junction. He reaches for his satnav and I  feel slightly ashamed for getting over myself. Cleary, the guy doesn’t know his way around the town. In fact, we ended up spending 20 minutes looking for this junction. So I start to relax and after finding it he tells me to go somewhere, in a shopping centre or something and wait for him. Eeerm, right…you don’t want your work colleague to see me. There is no shopping centre, only a Next store. He suggests I wait for him there. I do. At this point I’m feeling particularly pathetic. I expected him to take about 10 to 15 minutes. 20 minutes gone, he’s nowhere to be seen. 25 minutes and I’m tremendously pissed off.

30 minutes. You bastard!

He turns up around 2 minutes past the half hour and we walk back to his car.

“If I see anyone I know, just ignore me. I’m supposed to be at work.”

I’m angry now. So, I get in the car and I remain silent for the better part of 10 minutes. He then mentions lunch and we stop at a Harvester pub mostly because he’s ravenous. Me? Not so much but I love Harvester grub so I cheer up a bit. We sit across each other and I look at this man in front of me. What I’m doing here? What is he thinking? While on our way to meet his colleague we stopped somewhere and indulged. A bit of sexy time. So I sit there thinking of how he was calling out my name before and look into his green eyes. He’s asking about my family. Who cooks the most? My dad I say, and then he goes on about loving slowly cooked home roast. I don’t listen. I just look into his green eyes. They are so beautiful.

Is he kind to her? I hope he spends a lot of time with his child. What is he like at home? What was he thinking when he first met me that afternoon? Did he plan it like this?

I mention that I don’t like plain peas. He says he loves peas in whatever form they come. He offers me a leaf of parsley from his plate to spice up my plain peas. We laugh. He starts telling me about his childhood. How they use to steal carrots with other boys. Was he a little boy once? It’s hard to imagine. I finish my food and I go to the toilet, come back and finish the last of the beer he was having, he pays the bill and we are out of there. I’m silent again. Very thoughtful. Half an hour later we are having sex and I’m sweating and holding on for dear life. I’m a screamer. Later, we both have some Fox’s Mints – my mum buys two packets a week – and he tells me his legs feel like jelly.

“You’ve worn me out,” he tells me and chuckles.

“You’ve worn yourself out,” I quip. He laughs and kisses me while doing that thing with his tongue. We part.

As I walk home, I think of Fish and I’m singing in my head…

…You, shimmy shook my bone
Leaving me stranded all in love on my own
What do you think of me
Where am I now? Baby where do I sleep…

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23/07/2010

Having downed a cocktail of medication after an afternoon spent browsing the high street with the most excruciating lower back pain and the mother of all headaches, I collapsed lifelessly on bed. I hoped to sleep soundly, but no, I spent about half an hour tossing and turning before falling asleep and dreaming about BB.

You see, I went and got myself in trouble. I started thinking about him all week, and then I couldn’t stop. The dream was only a matter of time.

What does this tell me? If I’m not careful, I’m going to get trapped here. For the love of God, I don’t want to be attached to this man! The photo in his wallet left a stale taste in my mouth. Suddenly, I stopped trusting him and even lost a little bit of respect for him.  I can’t see myself being affectionate to a man I don’t respect.

23/07/2010

From this post: Yes, I think my dad is depressed.  I’ve been depressed too so it’s clear for me to see. My mum thinks this too but she has this absurd way of walking around  issues without really dealing with them. My mother has also gone through periods of extreme stress but being busy and being responsible for keeping the family together coupled with a very resilient character has made her stay on top of things.

When I was 18 and everything was starting to fall apart,  my mother took out her stress and frustrations on me. Being the eldest child, she would tell me off about anything that happened at home that she did not like. She would even refer to my brother’s mistakes as mine. If my brother did something she would start with ‘you children always do this…e.t.c”. Being a teenager and going through that roller coaster phase that every teenager goes through I always made sure to let her know that I was not happy with that. I would argue with her, we would talk about things as a result of these arguments and I would get it out of my chest and then we would make up, but of course she never stopped. She  minimised it, but she didn’t stop. I understood somehow that her treating me differently from my brother was because  she was looking to me as the eldest of the two to set an example which is fair enough. However, it was very tiring  to have this kind of responsibility weighed upon me when it was that it could be shared, and sometimes none of it was my fault.

So she called me selfish. All the time. I was selfish because I told her her to be  specific about the mistakes I made and the mistakes my brother made. I was selfish for pointing out that responsibility was not mine alone. I became very frustrated that I didn’t communicate exactly what I felt because I have a introvert-extrovert kind of personality.  Sometimes I got really angry and complained and shouted and then cried. Sometimes I just stared at her blankly as she ranted away because I couldn’t take it anymore. I could feel my spirit dying away very slowly. She called this selfish.

So, I went around doubting myself. I’m I being selfish now? Is this right. What should I do here? Would my mother think this is selfish? I went around not thinking about myself and my needs because I was scared of being selfish.

Then I grew up. No longer a teenager and starting to understand the serious issues in life I decided to back away from unnecessary arguments with my mum. Our relationship changed to the point that I didn’t say anything. I didn’t want any arguments, so I usually told her calmly if I didn’t agree with her and just generally avoided unpleasant situations. If she was having a random rant I would just let her let it all out and then just nod or offer my very brief opinion and that would be the end of that. Part of me wanted a good relationship with her while the other part of me just wanted some peace and calm. I was tired and weary of arguments and resentment. I changed. I grew up. This has been good for me because we can now communicate as adults without any one of us going away huffing and puffing with resentment, disappointment or even anger. This change in attitude  also helped me learn that I can think about my needs and not be selfish. In fact these days I don’t listen to my mum when she starts with that selfish tirade, which thankfully she hasn’t done in about two years. I know better now and I think she finally realised that I saw through her manipulation because let’s be honest she was manipulating me by calling me selfish.

My dad is different. My dad is difficult. He’s an extreme introvert. I mean really introverted. He’s not flexible too. He has this type of personality where it’s very easy for him to develop a low self-esteem. With him, when things are going well, money flowing in, kids getting good grades, affluence…influence..you know the lot, he’s happy. When things are difficult he gets stuck in this negative and self deprecating rut that is almost impossible to get him out of.  Sadly, life isn’t that one-dimensional. I remember once last year he refused to talk to my brother because he was not getting good grades. My relationship with him hasn’t been bad at all, although being the way he is and with all the problems around us, most of the times he hasn’t made the effort to communicate with me. And when someone doesn’t communicate with you and you have so many issues to deal with it gets really difficult to  get talking properly about things. It’s also extremely hard when this person is very negative.

I don’t want to be around negative people. I don’t want to deal with negativity.  Is that so bad?

When I was away at uni my dad never really called me or sent me emails a lot, just the odd one. I used to send him  e-cards on occasions like his birthday or father’s day when I couldn’t afford the postal ones but he didn’t respond  most of the times. Our communication was mostly along the lines of:

‘Hi dad, are you alright, how’s everything bla bla bla. My uni work is this and that bla bla bla…’ and he would reply with the same kind of thing , ‘I’m fine…bla bla bla. This is what is happening at home bla bla bla…’

It was just like that. It worked most of the times because I understood that my dad isn’t that big on words and opening up, so I left it like that because I knew my dad loved me and I love him very much. I was aware it was due to my dad’s depression and the stressful situation were in so I just worked at making myself feel better first and making sure my family was OK.  Things got bad and they are now worse after he quit his  job. When I talk to my dad I feel as if I’m being judged for something. He used to call me the last few days when I was at uni and it always felt like I was under watch. We didn’t communicate. He was just frustrated.

‘What are you doing? Where are young going? I called and you were not at home, where were you? How are your studies?’

That is not a phone conversation. I hated that, so all I did was just answer his questions, offer brief explanations and that was that. My parents in general haven’t been the let’s-be-open-and-talk-about-everything kind of people. I don’t know, I guess it could it could be because of my parents need to protect us and in a way treat us as precious little children or it could just be tradition, but that’s the way it is and I can’t change that now.

Still, my mum is very hands on. She calls us, emails, talks to us. She is generally the one who’ll tell me to get out there and live life. She makes an effort to make everyone happy. Now my dad has started saying that we are excluding him in stuff and my mum is blaming me. He says that we are talking to each other and doing things together and leaving him out. I don’t understand this. It’s his doing. He doesn’t want to do things, he is always worried about how much money we spend. He’s constantly stressing over things and when my mother tries to make him do things to make him feel positive, he refuses to do them. He sometimes even refuses to go for walks or treat himself to something that will make him feel better. He just wants to stay at home and be depressed. I don’t want to live like that. I want to be happy. I want to meet people. So I make an effort not to be in the company of my dad because he is so negative and I don’t want his kind of mindset. It’s not that I don’t like him. I love my father but I don’t want to live like him. Is it so wrong that I don’t want this kind of life? Does loving your parents mean putting up with a negative attitude? I’m also a grown up now and I’m a woman, surely my relationship with my father is going to be different from my mother. At this point in my life, I’m going to be close to my mother than my father but that doesn’t mean I don’t love him or care for him. So  why is my mum blaming me?

She went to work yesterday and called me for about half an hour to tell me off. She says I should make an effort even if my dad does not make any effort at least I’ll have done my part. But why is this? It’s not fair. He’s the one who isn’t making any effort, so why shouldn’t he be told to make an effort? I’ve been extremely patient with the situation at home. I’ve respected him. I’ve never shouted at him and or been rude to him when things were getting extremely hard and when he was not being very nice to my mum. I’ve never demanded anything of him, so why I’m I being told that it’s my fault? It’s not my fault that he’s depressed. It’s not my fault that he’s not working towards feeling good and being happy. I’m angry at my mum for making me feel guilty. Deep down I know it’s my dad making my mum feel guilty. It’s his low self-esteem and depression that is making him think  he’s being neglected. I just feel as if every time I try to stay on top of things, my dad puts me down again.

Tell me what’s wrong with wanting to run away from all this negativity?

Whenever my mum starts going on about this, I always think of that moment when I found a note from my dad to my mum in the kitchen table with my mum’s bank statement.

‘We don’t have money. She’ll never finish university’

Or that day when my mum sent me a message asking me to come up with a surprise present to give to my dad after graduation. For his efforts. I’m sorry but as much as I’m supposed to thank my parents for financing my education but I’m the one who is graduating. And my mum is the one who has struggled a lot more than my dad. A lot more.  If I was goin to buy a present it would be for her.  But, I didn’t say anything. Didn’t complain, just focused on completing my  degree, and now I’m the one who isn’t making an effort.

16/07/2010

The company that gave  me an interview three weeks ago called me again this morning. Apparently they might take me on a temporary basis. I didn’t see this coming but you never know with jobs these days. I’m waiting for their email with all the details on Monday and hopefully I’ll have something to occupy me by the end of the week. Truth be told I was growing very weary and just about stopped looking for jobs last week. Not to mention how angry I am at my father at the moment. He quit his job two weeks ago. I fail to understand the kind of man who quits his job when his family really, and I mean desperately needs him. I’ve watched my mother slaving herself to keep us afloat and all my dad wants to do is sit at home and ‘rest’. He says he can’t cope. Who can?  Times are tough. I can’t cope either  but I’m out there looking for something. It’s not fair. I sat up in bed last night thinking about the situation and all I could think was of how  much  I resent my father and I won’t even lie I am very bitter , but you know what through all this I’ve learnt a very important lesson: Never to put up with a man like my father. In fact, I do not want a husband like my father in my life. I don’t know how my mum does it. I really don’t.

14/07/2010

I think Barclays Boy is married. The first day we met he was driving a different car and I’ve just remembered I saw something like one of those signs you put on your window saying baby on board, only this one said munchkin.

Munchkin = Baby, no?

OK, I’m not sure about this, it could be someone else’s car and maybe I’m trying to looking for something that is not there. Today however, I saw a picture of a woman holding a baby in his wallet. Thrice. I never bothered to so much as linger for more than a few seconds looking at that picture because I don’t want to know. I also don’t care. Really? You ask. Yes, Really.

This is my thought process:

Is BB cheating? Maybe yes, probably not. Why, because I know men. It’s just sex, nothing more. Once he’s had enough of it, he’ll leave and I’ll be more than glad to part ways. If he came to me with that ‘oh-i-really-like-you-and-i-miss you, you-mean-so-much-to-me’ sentimental crap then I’d run away. Fast. And then keep on running some more because that would be the unmistakable reek of an affair. When I think about men sometimes I chuckle because I’ve seen it all. All of it. I’ve seen them in their pathetic and broken man mode, their I love you so much I want to marry you mode, right down to their complete bastard mode.

Nothing surprises me anymore.

 That’s why I remain pertinent on matters men. That’s why I have and never will cheat on a man I love but will try to remain objective when he does. Is it just physical? If yes, can he stop? If the answer is still yes, then we’ll happily move on. If it’s more than just sex, then I’d get very worried and it would be tremendously difficult for me to stay.

BB is going to Wales  for a two-week break next week. He told me his father lives there so he’ll be visiting him. I’m sure he’ll be taking his family along,   OK, maybe not, afterall I’m just speculating. While parting today he asked for my phone number and my email address and asked me to think of him while he was away. Eeeerm, OK?