scribbles tagged ‘1995’

whine bar

Tuesday, September 23rd, 2014 | tags: , , ,  |

What makes you think you’re saying anything that I’d actually want to listen to?

Smoking ladiesI hadn’t thought. My conversation was indeed trivial. We sat in silence while I pondered something worthy of conversation and he revelled in having silenced me. During the silence I decided his lack of engagement in conversation as a team effort, and the mean spirit of his conversation stopper meant that I didn’t care for his company.  I took my leave. An abrupt way to end a relationship. It had been short and definitely lacking in sweetness. When he’d told me that his ex-wife had attacked him with a meat cleaver I had wondered why, that wondering had wandered into potential victim blaming. His mean comment felt strategically placed to start a heated meta-level discussion about our relationship with a theme of my being inadequate. I’m prepared to engage in that type of conversation but only if handled in a manner that clearly, mutually, uncovers ways in which we can grow as individuals, or a couple. Clearly not the case here.

Putting on my coat, finding the money for my share of the bill and leaving the wine bar seemed to take forever. Maybe I’d overreacted, but the type of person I’d like to spend time with would not have created that situation and would have managed the end of the relationship with more grace and style. I cried while I walked home. Because, despite many clues, I’d not recognised his mean spirit.

whine bar
4 votes rating 4.8

2 bits of fabulous banter »

the parted

Thursday, March 7th, 2013 | tags: , , ,  |

LoughboroughHe told me that he was moving out. Today. We would not be spending the rest of our lives together, from today. The silence screamed as this inconceivable announcement bounced around my mind, never settling or subduing.

18 years later, remembering that moment spurs tears. He has my unconditional love for eternity. A few years earlier he’d been so keen for us to get married.

Sure, if that’s what you want, let’s have a big party for all our friends and family. I’ll love you forever, whatever, no marriage necessary. You’re a big part of my soul.

I wouldn’t wish loss like that on anyone. When marriages between beautiful people fail, I’m reminded of that day and the following years of learning to live with a rattle in the empty part of my soul. Like the rattling fan on my dying boiler except this is a rattle no-one else can hear in a hole no-one can see.

Since then I’ve had fun relationships, sensible relationships, all sorts of mixes with special people. My soul doesn’t rattle as loudly, but the gap is unfilled.

I tell myself it’s better to have lived that kind of love, and lost it, than never to have loved at all. Mostly, I believe myself because when I phone him, or think of us together, I can’t help but smile and LOL.

the parted
3 votes rating 4.7

3 bits of fabulous banter »

Stranger is stranger

Friday, July 6th, 2012 | tags: , , , ,  |

this story written on a napkin in a sushi restaurantI don’t think it was about sex. There wasn’t any sex.

It started when I noticed her in my local pub. She’d turn-up next to me at the bar when I went to buy a round. We’d exchange greetings and niceties. Or, I’d pass her when returning from the toilets and we’d exchange friendly smiles. I don’t know why she picked me.

She became an increasingly familiar stranger. During one conversation at the bar I invited her to join us.  She perched next to me, not mixing with my friends. She focussed on engaging me in conversation. The more I talked with her the further away I seemed to drift from my friends. I could see them floating away in mind and space. Leaving me,  with her, wrapped in an unpleasant isolation.

I stopped going to that pub. I enjoy feeling free. Even if I can’t go places to maintain the illusion of freedom. Then I started seeing her in the shopping centre, when roller-blading along the seafront, and worst of all – when I was walking home from work.  I started varying the time I left work and the route I took home. She started waiting outside the one door to the building. I knew I was being stalked. Did she know she was a stalker?

she felt like she was a car accident about to happenA game started when she walked up to me as I left work –  I’d ask her where she was going then turn to go the other way, when she changed her mind, I’d change my mind. The ridiculousness of the situation helped me just say

“I don’t want to walk with you or spend any time with you, I’d rather be alone, please leave me alone

what are you scared of?”

I don’t want to walk with you, talk with you or be with you, accept it, goodbye

She walked next to me, talking  as if I were a betraying lover that owed her an explanation. I looked straight ahead and walked on, pretending she wasn’t there, living what I wanted as if behaving like she wasn’t there would make her go away. I was extremely scared and equally determined to walk to Darren’s nearby home. She stopped at Darren’s beech hedge. I walked his garden path in the new silence feeling as-if her eyes were pawing my back.  Darren welcomed me with a outsized smile and hug, fed me pots of tea, listened to my burbling mess of a story before more delicious hugs and walking me home.

Alas, these things never end quite that easily

Stranger is stranger
4 votes rating 5

7 bits of fabulous banter »

wacked out

Monday, April 18th, 2011 | tags: ,  |

If it hadn’t been for Scooby Doo I never would have discovered the full fun of the Fun Lovin’ Criminals. I thought Robin’ Banks was some sort of US celebrity until I saw this video

Fun Lovin’ Criminals sang Scooby Snacks

wacked out
rate wendys scribble

what do you think of that »

missing

Monday, November 1st, 2010 | tags: , , , ,  |

After 6 years together, he left in march 1995 while I struggled with the isolation imposed by an itchy depressing case of the chicken pox. A tough year. Tracey Thorn helped smooth the edges on the darker sad moments, taking them up to a normal sadness with her soothing song, Missing. 16 years later the radio plays Missing and I’m reminded that even though I no longer hear the screaming in my mind, sometimes my mind wanders past where we lived, and I miss you.

Everything But the Girl sang Missing

On the off-chance you still use the same email address I replied to your last email (2006). Your prompt, succint reply, with a large attachment of baffling technical IE8 jargon, quashed that missing feeling. It prompted cat-spooking, floor hugging, loud laughter. So typical of you to find something to apologise for as an opening sentence then quickly spring into politics, attitude, and rude words:

Sorry about the attachment. I was booted off line before I was able to send. I blame the government. Big society? Big arse, more like.

We’re still unsynchronised dancing to Stand. It’s good to know you’re still there, somewhere, being wonderful you…

REM sang Stand

missing
rate wendys scribble

what do you think of that »

Looky Likey #5: Patti Smith

Monday, October 25th, 2010 | tags: , , , ,  |

After a Martin Stephenson concert in the Portsmouth Wedgewood rooms (1995),

Martin Stephenson and the Daintees sang Crocodile cryer (1986)

Martin walked over to me and said:  I couldn’t help watching you because you look so much like Patti Smith. I found the comparison very flattering, Patti is one of the few female celebrities that is beautfiul in her own right without reference to standard definitions of femininity.

Patti Smith sang Because the night

Looky Likey #5: Patti Smith
1 vote rating 5

5 bits of fabulous banter »