Polaroid Android

October 24, 2008

Today, ladies and gentleman, I need to laugh.

 

I tried the story of the woman who is prison in Japan for killing her husband online but it’s just not cutting the mustard.

 

Even my favourite combination swearwords, like ‘fuckshit’ and ‘assballs’ are raising little more than a snigger.

 

Sigh. At least I have Ben Folds to keep me company.

 

Yesterday, friends, was the first time since I left Florence House and The Hoffman Process where I have ended the day, taken a look at myself in the mirror, and thought ‘what the fuck was that all about?’

 

I didn’t go to class, had a huge, friendship-ending argument with DR, didn’t eat, and basically did nothing.

 

Fucked my shit right up.

 

And now I’m just pissed at myself for returning to an old way. Obviously, the power to change this is in my own hands, but you know something? I’m just fucking pissed off at myself. I’m going to take it out at the gym later, but for now, it is this blog which shall bear my wrath.

 

Let’s start with something that has been pissing me off for quite some time – namely DR.

 

A while back, DR and I went out, and got on famously. The next day, DR said she needed some space to think as her life was pretty crowded, and I agreed – after telling her that honestly, if the whole thing wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t mind, and would prefer the honesty over being strung along pointlessly.

 

‘No, no’ I was reassured. ‘I just need time.’ ‘Ok’, thinks I ‘then that’s what I’ll give her.’ In the meantime, DR was only to happy to call me when she needed something – normally when she was having a shitty day and needed someone to rant to.

 

I’m a pretty easy going guy, and because I liked her (admittedly this was based on one meeting and a whole lot of talking, but can you like someone based on that? If you ‘live in the moment’ as I tend to do, then yes you can.) I was more than willing to give her the time she needed, as she frequently acted as though she was interested, etc.

 

But my patience was waning. There is only so much time a person can be a sounding board for the bad parts of someone’s life with no reward – and don’t even try that ‘well David, the reward is friendship, and that’s what friends do’ bullcrap with me, because DR and I weren’t friends. We were two people who had been out once, and were working – or so I thought – to do so again.

 

So yesterday, after deciding not to go to class because I was (a) in a horrific mood, and (b) because I felt as though I could accomplish more by working at home and finally doing some degree work, (obviously more (a) than (b)) I am looking at emails, etc, and I start up an MSN conversation with DR. I don’t use MSN a lot, but I guess being in a bad mood, I was reaching a bit.

 

DR and I make small talk, and (rather deliberately) I drop in a few questions about whether or not she has any more dates lined up, knowing the answer would be yes, and knowing this would be the ‘out’ I needed. Of course, the answer was ‘a couple’, and I got very pissed off pretty quickly.

 

I should point out that at no point during this 3 week waiting period for a bit of fucking clarification (3 fucking weeks!) have I ever been concerned about rejection. I genuinely and honestly have no fear or concerns about that. If DR had have turned up on the night, taken a look at me, and gone ‘oh you ugly bastard’, I would have merrily carried on my little life. But no, this was someone who had been using me for weeks (please see my earlier post where I referred to a friend ‘using me’) as some sort of councillor – certainly not a role I wanted to play – on the proviso of taking time with me, and all that other shit. All I had asked for was some honesty. That was it. Some fucking honesty.

 

Instead, I was pissed because I had been strung along for weeks, and basically, she wasn’t interested. Which is fine, her prerogative, her decision, and I really don’t feel it as a rejection of me. But just fucking say! Don’t maintain contact with me, call me and try and talk to me about the in-depth parts of your life and harp on about ‘connection’ if you’re just not interested. At the end of the day (oh, how I hate that cliché) all she has done is waste my time and hers. And been dishonest. My number 1 pet hate.

 

So we had an argument about it. And now, that ‘friendship’, for what it is, is over. It’s a real shame, because, as I stated in an earlier blog, we did have an incredible connection, and if she had have been honest, we could have been really good friends. In the course of our conversation last night, I was asked ‘can’t we just be really good friends?’ to which I replied ‘I don’t have dishonest friends’, which I may regret. But I was pissed off. Can you blame me? Surely a friendship – in whatever guise – is supposed to be a two-way street?

 

The rest of the night was a total right off. I won’t go into it all, but I spent the night being old David, talking to people I didn’t want to talk to, and feeling all those old feelings rising up. I am not an angry person – I don’t do anger or react to it particularly well – and when I experience it, I tend to feel… I don’t know… ashamed? Guilt? Regret?

 

I spent the night alone in my room, generally trying to avoid real interaction with people. People were downstairs, and, in my process of avoidance, it was 11.30pm before I ventured down to get something to eat. I had been upstairs since I returned home at 6pm. That isn’t healthy.

 

The last couple of days have been shitty as a shit party in shit-town on National Shit Day. BUT, I know within me, I have the power to change it all and turn it around. I have also noticed that the emergence of a lot of these feelings have coincided with my not going to the gym this week, something I will certainly be doing tonight.

 

This weekend, I am going for my birthday, and I have to confess to a slight feeling of self-consciousness. I don’t generally like being the centre of attention – if you told my friends and people who know me that, they’d probably laugh – and the process of sorting it all out is quite a new thing for me, who normally avoids doing anything for my birthday.

 

Pre-process, I usually spent my time and money on one thing: women. Weekends? Women. Weekday nights? Women. Friends were a secondary concern. Coming out of my process, and dealing with what was quite horrible misogyny, I realised I had neglected my friends to the point where my social circle had really dwindled to the point where only my nearest and dearest remained.

 

The process of reconnecting with people is a long one, and one I have started and done quite well with, but organising a celebration, I became quite self-conscious of the people I could actually invite – and the number, which is pretty small. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think to myself that having a such a small number would have people asking ‘are more coming?’ and things to that effect.

 

As it has turned out, I have about 15 people coming; mostly my friends, some being friends of friends, and they are all coming and going at different times. On the plus side, I’ll be able to talk to the people who do come for a decent amount of time, on the negative side, I guess the part of me which is currently unsatisfied and feeling ill at ease would quite like the superficial boost of having a great number of people swarming around him. I guess, as they say, we will have to see.

 

Whatever happens, I will be digging out my Polaroid camera for the occasion. David doesn’t do digital. (He said, writing an electronic diary on the internet)

 

On the very much plus side, come Sunday night, I will be seeing a friend of mine, Alex, for I guess what will be date number 2. Alex and I went out once, though I don’t think I blogged about it, and got on really rather well.

 

But that’s it from me, dear friends. I wish you a wonderful weekend, and maybe, just maybe, Monday will bring tales of joy and Polaroid pictures.

 

Love and light to you all

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