I'm back to blogging once a day at the moment at least - and although it's mainly diary type stuff it's getting slowly back on track. Two things today, after the brief update on what's been going on:
Didn't get out of work early after all yesterday, which delayed me buying Adrian's extra pressie (the CD single of Pet Shop Boys and Peter Rauhofer's Break for Love). This in turn delayed me getting back and so I didn't go to the gym and felt guilty. Anyway, went over to R&R's and had wine and Adrian and (his) Michael turned up and he was suitable surprised for his birthday. Marvellous. Went and got takeaway curry and had that back at R&R's and then was going to go out but flagged. Home, watched the end of the Abyss and then fell into bed. Up and at 'em today. Sooooo ready for the weekend. About 75 more mins here then home, gym, haircut and a few quiet beers ready for tomorrow's 7.30am flight. Yippee!
OK, the other things. One's a kind of Michael thing. I'm still having real problems moving on from him, and it's hard to work out why. I guess when it was good it was pretty good - fun, relaxed, he is very sexy, etc. What concerns me is that I hung around knowing that he was (potentially) bad news and waited for him to fulfil that potential, which he did in spades. And having been shat upon from a great height, all I wanted to do was stick around and help him. What's that all about? As the time's moved on since I've been having good days and bad days. Intellectually I realise that it's not up to me to help him, and that he can only help himself etc.but emotionally I just want to sit him down and tell him so many things. Maybe it's just unanswered questions that I have about the time we spent together. I dunno. I will move on, given time, but it's so hard. I think I miss the possibilities more than Michael himself. It was all there - the almost perfect partner on paper... maybe it's not that difficult to see why I'm ruing so much. I just want him to do the same - but as he didn't really think about anyone but himself during those 10 weeks it's unlikely he'll start and do that now. Maybe one day he'll realise what might have been... though by then I'll be so far moved on and hopefully happy.
In other news... the second thing. I'm also slightly concerned that I'm trying to define myself in part through other people. Difficult one this one. I know I've done it before to a certain extent - met someone, lost myself in that person - or more truthfully lost myself in trying to be what I think that person wants me to be. Rather than be myself and letting the other person work with that, I try and second guess what/who they want me to be and then try and be that. Dangerous. I've done it to a lesser extent with friends over the years too, but I guess that's because I don't always have a great sense of self. It may come as a surprise to those people who see me out and about as it probably appears different to that, but appearances can so often be deceptive. I need to define who I am through my own actions - doing what I want to do because that's who I am, not doing stuff to please others, to appear different. I was brought up in an environment where no-one did stuff. No real passions. In fact my life was devoid of passion in pretty much any form or shape. Brief flirtations with it ended up in the throes of boredom, as my attention span as a very bright child meant nothing could keep me amused for long. Today's 'this is the best thing ever!' led to tomorrow's 'I don't want to do that anymore...'. The challenge had gone. The Pet Shop Boys have a song called 'Too Many People' which pretty much sums up how I feel sometimes. In essence it's about trying to be all things to all people rather than just being yourself. Maybe it's an insecurity thing - what if I am myself and people don't like it? Sometimes I'm feeling strong enough to say 'screw 'em', other times I'm a small child wondering if people will still want to play with me.
God, I'm rambling. This wasn't even what I started writing about! This second bit was meant to be about getting asthma as a child, hospital in Yugoslavia, peaches in jars and coffee with bread in it. I'll save that for after this weekend. Suffices to say I've no real answers yet. Work in progress. Watch this space.