Fade to grey

Oh dear. If I was watching a movie of my life, I would have got up and left in disgust at the actions of the protagonist last week. It's the G, the effing G.

He came over Sunday. We had a cup of tea at the kitchen table and listened to the ticking clock. He talked about work, some of the clubs he'd been too, playing pool. Everytime there was a lull in the conversation, the clock would tut at me from the wall. I would ask 'what do you want?', him: 'i just wanted to see you. I missed you'.

I went upstairs because the flatmates were hanging about the house, but the bedroom was a mistake. He kissed me quickly and then looked at the wall.

Me: 'I came up here because it's private to talk. I'm keeping my pants on.'
Him: 'I missed you.'
Me: 'You said it wouldn't work. What's changed?'
Him: 'I don't know. I missed you. I miss your bed, and laughing with you, your sense of humour.'
Me: 'Do you know what you want?'
He bured his face in the quilt.
Him: 'I don't know. I just missed you.'
Me: 'I know what I want, but do you?'

I suggested a date during the week, once he's had a few days to think about things. We could talk and see if the spark is dead and gone. We know it's there in the bedroom, but what's the point if we can't hold a conversation. If I tell him about my interests and he says he hates all that 'goth crap' or 'pretentious and inane rock music is middle class shite'. What's the point of music that you need to take a handful of pills to enjoy? Music may seem like a small thing, but it's hugely important. It is like he is spitting on who I am and where I've come from.

Then he drones on about the summer of love, being part of that scene. Pilling 4 nights out of 7, double or triple headers, crystal meth etc.

I can't talk about work because I hate it. It's creatively deadening and just pays the rent. It's not who I am. At the end of the day I feel completely dirty and angry, while he thrives on his career. It's part of who he is, fair play, and it feeds his mind. Mine kills me.

Meanwhile we're still in the bedroom, and he's still touching my leg. He's still stroking my arms and looking at me with his stupid blue eyes, and asking for kisses with his liar lips.

Me: 'There's an expression about a cow.'
Him: 'What's that?'
Me: 'Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free. You see what I'm getting at?'
Him: 'I want the cow.'

Afterwards, when I just felt stupid and wanted him to leave so I could commence my head-to-wall interface, he suggested dinner at the local. How long until the first argument? Between the beer and the food arriving. He's jealous of my male friends.

I mentioned that I had a misunderstanding with this guy at work, and he got wildly jealous and suspicious. It was stupid of me, and perhaps a little mean and deliberate.

Him: 'You know I've turned down plenty of women in the past 6 months and you don't give me any credit for it'

also

Me: 'We always have the power to upset each other.'
him: 'Why do you think that is?'
Me: 'Because we care about each other.'
Him: 'no, why do you think we keep hurting each other?'

He left to visit some of our friends. He didn't tell them he'd just come over and begged me back. Wants to wait and take things slowly. In other words, he's got one foot out the door until he's sure.

2am, the phone rings.

Him: Are you awake? I've been thinking about the stuff you said over dinner. Have you been with anyone else.
Me: no babe. There's been noone. I wasn't interested in anyone and wanted time alone.
Him: Really? You can tell me?
Me: Nope. You?
Him: No. I guess you had every right to if you did, though.

True

1. I didn't screw anyone in that week after we split.
2. If I did, so what. I was single and could do what the hell I wanted.

Now I was the one lying awake.

Of course there was also the date, but I'm bored of self-vivisection and brooding. I know what I've got to do.