Day 6: Mind The Gap.

August 7, 2008

Truth.

 

Truth to yourself, and truth to others, that’s the theme of today’s bloggerific blog.

 

With that in mind, allow me to point out that I am fully aware of the irony in telling you that today, I am going to do something I have thus far not done in this blog: hold back information.

 

There are truths – facts – and there are truths in an emotional sense. People on my course will recall the pact of confidentiality we made with each other; how that exposed emotional core and what poured out was to be shared amongst ourselves only.

 

The following is written with that in mind.

 

Let me rewind slightly, however, and begin at the beginning.

 

I was bored at work for two reasons – 1. There is quite literally NOTHING to do here. The office is bereft of people, and the things that make my job tick by – social engagements, committee meetings, news releases – simply don’t exist right now, and 2. I was seeing Lucy; something I was particularly excited about for a number of reasons, including being aware of how important it was to talk about a few things in person, and tell the truth.

 

I left work at 4pm, and, after getting lost in Canary Wharf’s ridiculous maze-like shopping centre of an Underground station, I emerged from totally the wrong exit with a gift of Strawberry pastry things for Lucy’s afternoon tea. A short hello later – bear in mind this was at 5pm – Lucy disappeared back off to work while I relaxed in a Starbucks (panic not, I had tea) and watched a movie.

 

A Review of ‘Wanted’, starring the posh boy from Atonement and Angelina ‘You Think I’m Sexy, But Actually, I’m Not’ Jolie.

 

Killing people is cool. Collateral damage is a side effect. Bullets can bend. Guns are sexy. People can be killed by the whim of a secret ‘Loom Of Fate’. People are very easily brainwashed. These are the messages of ‘Wanted’.

 

The film itself is totally risible. The story – if you call it that – regards a mild-mannered account manager finding out he is the son of an infamous assassin, himself a member of a secret order of genetic freaks, founded a 1,000 years ago, each biologically conditioned to assassination. (PS – you may notice a plot hole to do with guns, gunpowder, and the time period of 1,000 years. If you do, congratulations, you and I are on the same page)

 

He is recruited, trained in typical montage fashion by Angelina Jolie, gets to tell his old boss to ‘fuck off’, kiss Angelina Skeleton Bones, and kill lots and lots and lots of people.

 

Unfortunately, it turns out he’s been working for the bad guys all along, and they are actually trying to kill him. If anyone – and I mean ANYONE – can explain to me why someone who wanted to kill you would train you to be a deadly assassin, I would appreciate an answer either in the comments section, or by tattooing it on my forehead, because… guess what? It comes back to haunt them. I know, I totally didn’t see that one coming either.

 

Absolute pig shit of the highest order, but it does feature two Nine Inch Nails songs on the soundtrack, so I enjoyed at least 6 minutes of it.

 

Back to Starbucks. After briefly seeing Gemma and her boyfriend Pete, and resisting another ‘see you next Tuesday joke’, (hi Gemma, if you’re reading this!) Lucy turned up at 6.30 as promised.

 

And this is where the honesty stops.

 

For this next bit, I am going to wash over great details of time, not specify what was said, and generally… generalise. I will just say that I met with Lucy at 6.30, and got on the train around 3 hours later.

 

I will tell you this much, though. I have matured beyond any previous possible comprehension over this past month. In conversation over dinner, I became the measured and considerate sort of man I have always wished I could be – I listen, am listened to, and take things on board, not considering them personal slights, and reaching clear, mutual, decisions. I left Lucy feeling special – special that Lucy shared her truths with me, and felt comfortable enough to share her own thoughts without fear of judgement or retribution. She is able to do this, in my opinion, because she sees the changes in me that allow her to feel secure in our relationship – and I don’t mean that to be categorised as a ‘boyfriend’, or even a ‘friend’, as I am no longer falling foul of a need to compartmentalise people or situations.  

 

That is all I am going to say about those three hours. I will tell you the result, however – today I feel fucking fantastic, much as I did last night.

 

This weekend is moving weekend – and, I have to confess, I am rather looking forward to it. It is not that I do not like my house or the people I am living with, it is more that I feel ready to (a) tackle the next stage of my life, and (b) post-Hoffman, I recognise a lot of what made me move there in the first place – rebellion, etc. So, I am ready to go. It looks as though (fingers crossed) I now have a place to move into in September, but until then, I will be house-sitting my parent’s castle of a house for 3 weeks. Yes, I know, it’s going to be tough. More news on this when I have it.

 

I have managed to wrangle a day off work tomorrow, so this is the last blog of the week, sadly. I wish you the best of weekends, whatever it is you are doing, and leave you with a question – when was the last time you really told the truth?

 

It’s goodnight from me, and it’s goodnight from him.

 

Closed Box

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One Response to “Day 6: Mind The Gap.”

  1. Gemma Says:

    Hi to you too xx


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