Insecurity

I have been talking to my love, my dear sweet badger. I have been feeling a bit gloomy for the last couple of days but a few words with my darling and I am back on the road. Yes, we have a headstart for happiness.

I felt insecure because we lost contact last night and my Edgar Allan Poe/Rod Serling imagination went into overdrive wondering what he was doing. Now he’s explained the difficulties he was having I’ve been able to heave a big sigh as well as kicking myself up the bum for being oversensitive.

I know he loves me, and he knows I love him. Our love for each other is plain for all to see and it grows ever deeper. He is quite simply the best thing that has ever happened to me or my world. But this in itself has led a feeling of vague dread, fear, worry that this good thing I have found isn’t going to last. My love has done nothing to engender this emotion or said anything which could be interpreted as a desire to run away from me (he has said quite the opposite in fact). No, this feeling has come about because quite simply I can’t believe my luck and my subconscious is therefore busy ferreting around for things to worry about. It can’t find any concrete evidence of my darling’s desire to flee the relationship, so it just plants this horrible grey, vagueness in my head and says, “feel this melancholy, and by the way, tough luck if you don’t like it”.

Now we’ve spoken, he’s reassured me in his unique and somewhat clumsy way, and I am once again sailing above the clouds. I will see my love tomorrow and life will surely be grand.

 

Not sure…

Not sure why I’m writing this other than to release thoughts spinning around in my head like an apple spinning silently in space.

Yesterday was a day beset by one calamity after another. I will not bother to go into details, each event being minor and the effects minimal in the grand scheme of things, but so many things went wrong yesterday I felt like there’d been a curse put on my day. Although the mishaps warranted minor irritation I sailed through each of them with a song in my heart. Why? Because I know there was someone out there who loved me.

So last night my love and I were exchanging messages and I felt safe and warm in his “presence”. Suddenly though, the mood changed. It was like an invisible forcefield was erected between us and I could no longer comfort or engage with the man I love. I retreated to lick my wounds but could not sleep.

Later it emerged my love was being troubled by other forces outside our relationship. This explanation reassured me to an extent. However, on waking up this morning the forcefield may have gone but something has been left behind. Someone I do not know and never want to know is making my love feel crushed and dismayed. For a while last night I felt excluded. Unfair of me, self centred probably, but I also felt crushed and dismayed.

Today is the birthday of the man I have fallen in love with. We cannot be together today, which makes me sad, but I know we will be together soon.

Colour blind Suffolkians?

I live in a small market town in west Suffolk; a town which is predominantly white with a large elderly population.  Our town is shared by Portuguese, Lithuanians and Poles, all of whom are most welcome as far as I’m concerned. I’m pleased to say most residents seem to share my view, although there are a few idiots who bemoan this “invasion”.

I have recently met and fallen for the most wonderful black man. He is handsome, intelligent, gentle and kind. I am very, very proud of him and very proud to be seen with him. He has visited me in my home town a few times now and I know he’ll agree, when I say one of our greatest pleasures is simply to walk about the town hand in hand, generally pottering about. He loves this kind of activity; he loves interacting with the locals and generally getting to know how life works in a small Suffolk community on the edge of a large forest.

Now it is fair to say his dark skin marks him out as being somewhat different here. It is unusual to see a black person in the town and I was interested to find out how people would react to seeing this white blonde woman walking around with a bald black man. In fact in 98% of cases it garnered no reaction at all. We were accepted as a couple and people were just the same towards me when we greeted them together, as when I spoke to them on my own.

The first time we got a reaction was on our first date funnily enough. We sat in a bar talking and smiling at each other when an elderly lady passed our table and greeted us with a cheery “hello” She then stopped to ask my beloved where he came from, “somewhere hot I suppose?” My love just laughed and told her he was born in this country. It was a courteous and friendly exchange, after which the lady bid us goodnight and went on her way smiling.

On another occasion I took him to meet some friends of mine in another pub. My friends soon became “our friends” and after enjoying a friendly chat and plans to meet again soon, they had to leave us alone together. My beloved then went to the bar to get another drink, leaving me sat on my own. I glanced to my right to see if he was coming back and caught the gaze of a grey haired white man. He was giving me a disapproving look, not quite a sneer but a “what are you doing with him?” kind of look. I met his gaze and sat thinking proudly of the man I love. When he came back we held hands and our lips met. I smiled to myself, wondering what the disapproving old man was thinking at that moment.

I am proud to say west Suffolk has surprised and delighted me. I expected to be met with many more disapproving looks and questions as to where my darling boy came from. But no, the people did me proud. I love Suffolk and I love my boyfriend.

Life is grand sometimes.

The true meaning of gentleman…

The love of my life is a socialist with a liking for non-PC humour, a wicked smile and a reputation for being fierce.  He says what he thinks and he means what he says. His language is occasionally on the coarse side and he likes to laugh at other people’s misfortune (much as I do. I have met my schadenfreude match).

But my boy is a gentle boy. When I am down he sends me a message to say “please don’t cry darling” and my eyes well up even more. I can hear the tenderness and the loving care as if he is whispering the words straight into my ear.

He is a gentle soul who does everything in his power to help others. If anyone is in trouble they just have to ask and he will be there.

My man is a gentle man with a loving so warm and tender I could cry with happiness. He strokes my hair or gently runs his finger up and down my arms, and when I look into his deep brown eyes I see devotion.

My badger is a gentle animal. He is endowed with empathy and compassion.

My boyfriend, the love of my life, has no bourgeois pretentions. He has no time for people who consider themselves better than the rest.  My boyfriend is no gentleman – he is a GENTLEMAN.

You know who you are my sweet and you know I love you xxxxxxxxxxx

 

 

My radical rambling friend somewhere oop north….

My good twitter friend and ally @Roy_Noon lives somewhere up north in the cold place. I can’t be more specific than that, simply because I can’t remember where it is at the moment. I could check his twitter profile or actually ask him but I think oop north will suffice as a location for now.

Roy and I have known each other for over a year.  We share a common interest in helping those in society who may not have anyone else to turn to when their benefits are stopped, their Wonga bill avalanches out of control, or the neighbours are giving grief. He’s a good person to know, despite the fact he does have rather a penchant for listening to squawking ladies in horny hats.

I welcome Roy to the WordPress fold.  He will fit in very well with chums @Professoredith and @_Paul_And_

Now Roy – I believe Heidi is staring at you. She may want feeding. walking or cuddling. I will leave it to your discretion to decide which.

At A Loose End….

I am sat here listening to the chatter going on between my youngest daughter and one of her friends, while they wait to collect another friend at 3.00pm. They promise it will be a quiet and well behaved sleepover. Mmm, yes.

While this goes on I am all at sixes and sevens with someone very special on my mind. I sent him a birthday card today, which was nice but it served to remind me we won’t be together on his special day. As time goes on I miss him more and more. I know he misses me too (he’d darn well better be missing me or there will be trouble!)

I watched Powell and Pressburger’s A Matter of Life and Death earlier. The scene where June offers to take Peter’s place in heaven to spare his life reminded me of the person referred to above.  Love is being willing to put the other person first, willing to sacrifice one thing in order to gain another. Our separation is a sacrifice but we are working towards a happy ending, just like the one Peter and June enjoyed at the end of the film when they stepped away from the stairway to heaven, and enforced separation, to enjoy a long and happy life together on earth. From where I’m sitting, earth looks hugely preferable to heaven. Not that I believe in that stuff anyway but I digress.

Meanwhile it is still relatively quiet here at the moment, although one child is strumming a ukulele and another is tooting on a harmonica.  This good behaviour can only mean one thing; they are storing up their energy for tonight, when they will spring into action by creeping along the landing after developing a sudden craving for water. It’s funny how they turn their noses up at water during the daytime but come bedtime it’s suddenly their number one beverage.

Back to my loose ends feeling. I hope to see my beloved at the end of the week, I mean I really, really hope to see him. Next week promises to be even worse than last week, when I had to endure a day of corporate flogging (selling financial products, not flagellation). But sadly this week I have to endure two whole days in Cambridge. I don’t mind the training I have to attend but I cannot bear the city. I find it snobby, wholly overrated and fraught with dangers to pedestrians as cyclists whizz around corners, blatantly disregarding red traffic lights, and waving a cheery fist at anyone who has the audacity to walk across the road before they get there. As well as that I don’t like the shops, I don’t like the atmosphere of the place, and I don’t like the park and ride. Every time I go to Cambridge I get lost. This time I am going by train but I know there is a good chance trains will be delayed for the return journeys on those two days. Am I just unlucky or is the train service from Cambridge always this crappy? So that is another stressful couple of days I want over and done with as soon as possible.

If I sound a miserable grouch I apologise. I am actually very cheery by nature but the loose ends have kind of got me all knotted up*

*Enough of the string analogies already. Sake.

Ahh, that’s better…

24 hours ago I was in the midst of despair, not knowing when I would see my precious again.  He was busy sorting out problems while I waited on the sidelines wondering what was going on. I got into a very low mood, quite unlike me, and it felt as though a light had been switched off and I was walking around in a middle of the night grey murkiness. However, my darling phoned me last night and within seconds his kind loving voice had started to take the pain away. I knew this man loved me, the knowledge of which filled me with great joy and pride.

He told me I have rebuilt him over the last few months; he told me how he had regained his self esteem all thanks to my careful handling. When we first became friends I knew there was goodness in there, it is an inherent quality within him which he’d forgotten he had. But my boyfriend is goodness personified; he is a man who will do right by you. Ask him for help and he will run to your side.

We are good for each other, we build each other up, and we care about one another. I am lucky to have found such a positive, nurturing relationship at this late stage in my life. I never, ever wanted to meet anyone else but this man badgered me;)

 

Strangely Vague…

I feel weird at the moment but cannot put the feeling into words. I feel low but not in a way that I can say A caused B and now I feel C. There are some triggers but this feeling is fuzzy and non-specific. I just feel low and cannot see a way out of it right now. I don’t feel tearful or angry, I don’t even feel nothing. Maybe this goes back to when I was bullied when my mind shut down to stop me thinking about stuff that hurt me. It doesn’t feel the same as that though.

I have woken up again, after a restless night. I will go and make myself some porridge. Maybe the low blood sugar has something to do with this unpleasant fuzzy feeling. See you later.

Tedious Duties

I love the work I do and I put my all into it. But today I have to do something I consider rather a waste of what would otherwise be a productive day. I have to go somewhere and listen to corporate waffle and sales pitches then pick up a bag of freebies on the way out. The journey to and from this place is not straightforward either; it will be a pain to get to. Why can’t these people have offices in the middle of the town? Oh no missus, they’ve got to be on an ugly industrial estate so you can’t even escape into humanity during the break. Eek.

I will endure, I may learn something, but I will also return home gritting my teeth and clenching my jaw having spent a day in a pit of capitalist marketing. As a socialist this is torture, pure mental torture. I don’t care how smiley they are, I don’t care how great their success rates are, and I don’t care if they plan to expand into Patagonia or wherever it is. I am a quality not quantity person; I don’t measure success by footfall or bar charts. I measure success by looking at someone who needs my help, guiding them through the mire and out the other side, and seeing them smile for the first time in months. I don’t sell anything and I certainly I don’t sell hope like the capitalists do. I give it willingly.

As Time Goes By…

As time goes by. Not one of my favourite songs, rather maudling for my taste, but the phrase suits the occasion.  As time goes by our love and respect for each other continues to grow. He is an inherently good man; goodness runs through him like Blackpool through a stick of rock from, er, Blackpool. If it says Brighton something has gone wrong at the old Chinese rock factory.  Anyway,  as time goes by I get to know him better, he gets to know me better, and we realise we actually like each other very much indeed.

I was in a maudling mood last night, having said goodbye to my love for another period of enforced separation. Of course each coming back together is emotional and full of joy, just as each separation is emotional and tinged with sadness. The weekends just go so fast and before we know it “hello darling” turns into “goodbye my love”.  I have a feeling we can endure this enforced separation and treat each period of lonely solitude like an advent calendar, where we tick off the days until we open box 14 and rush into each other’s arms once more. Okay, we don’t rush, we’re a bit old for that, but we do hold each other very tightly and savour the moment when we can finally hear each other’s hearts beating loudly again in our respective chests.

As time goes by we grow more relaxed in each other’s company. We are already behaving like a couple, doing the mundane things like shopping, replacing a damaged fluorescent tube, or stopping for a chat with the next door neighbours.  Every act of togetherness reinforces the belief we belong together. Every mundane trip to the market, to the hardware shop, or the supermarket is undertaken naturally, as if it was always meant to be. There is no pretence between us; neither of us has to put on an act to keep the other entertained. We talk about many things; current affairs, music, politics, children, funny things that have happened at work, events that occurred before we met, and each conversation reinforces the belief we are right for each other. We are so happy in each other’s company – no uncomfortable silences, no wondering if I should say this or should I say that, we just talk and the conversation flows.

Sometimes we sit holding hands and say nothing at all. We sit in silence and every so often he’ll sigh or roll his eyes and I’ll look at him as if to say “what’s wrong?” He’ll laugh and say, “oh nothing, I’m just happy”.