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From:  j4 |
Date:
August 14th, 2004 06:47 pm (UTC)
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The sense that you ought to be 'having fun' is revolting.
And the worst thing is, the only person who imposes that sense on me is ... well, take a guess... yup, it's me.
I mean, my parents (and my sister and her surprisingly-nice[1] boyfriend, for that matter) were lovely about the holiday, my parents said they didn't mind if I wanted to do stuff with them or not-with-them, or whatever, or just bum around the house and do nothing, they just wanted to see me & thought I needed a holiday. And they paid for the flights and the trains and everything, and I felt awful for not enjoying myself more, and not seeming grateful.
[1] "Surprisingly" not particularly because I expected him to be awful, but more because I default to a bizarrely possessive kind of subconscious feeling that nobody can possibly be good enough for my little sister.
Enough make you turn to gin.
Gin is lovely. We do not "turn to" gin, we embrace it. Trust gin. Gin is your friend.
Though actually tonight I have had no gin, but a lot of l*ger. (It needed using up, okay? It was a long way over its best-before.)
a baby, a boyfriend and a joint mortgage
Poo. :-/
Though to be fair I have had two out of three of those and it hasn't stopped me being available for more-than-friendship in the right circs. But I am very aware that this doesn't work for everybody, so, um.
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From: j4 |
Date:
August 15th, 2004 02:19 am (UTC)
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My sister & her boyfriend are about the least demonstrative couple I've ever seen. I think I saw her touch his arm kind-of-affectionately, once, in the course of the week.
I would gladly take him for a pint except that he's teetotal. A pint of coke would do, though, I suppose. :) He did cope remarkably well with the full force of McKnightery, though; even I find it a bit of a culture-shock when I go home, god only knows how it feels to an outsider.
And I've never lived with a couple while being single. I haven't been single for more than a few months since I was 14, unless you count the current situation (basically, I'm going out with somebody who isn't going out with me). I don't know how to be single. I have no idea how to do the most basic things, like eat and sleep and whatever, without "a partner" somewhere -- even if they're not there, even if they never actually contact me or anything -- to validate my existence. Which, of course, means that I'm not enough of a person in my own right to have anything to give to a relationship, so it's no wonder they don't last.
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I haven't been single for more than a few months since I was 14
Lucky, lucky you. Of course, it isn't luck: you are someone that people like to be with, for reasons you'll probably never believe. Lucky you, too, going out with somebody who isn't going out with me, that you are among poly people: everyone else would've had The Conversation about that, and shut the door in a very final "Let's just be friends and I'll try ever so hard not to say 'F**k off and die' to your face" kind of way.
I got used to eating and sleeping and just being together over a five year period and when it ended I never adjusted to being 'single'. It's never a bed, it's an empty bed; it's never a meal, it's always </i>eating alone</i>; it's always there, the sense of incompleteness and an existence that really does need something to validate it. Once you've given that bit of yourself in a relationship you never are enough of a person in your own right again - or maybe you never were, but now you notice.
And you'll never know what it is that you give: I don't think anybody ever does.
Nile the relationship counsellor. No relation to Captain John Smith the Steering Around Icebergs consultant.
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From: j4 |
Date:
August 15th, 2004 04:01 am (UTC)
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No, it's isn't luck: it's the sort of hopeless clinginess that means I'll go out with even the most unsuitable people rather than try to confront and control my own life, rather than try to find any sort of meaning and purpose within myself.
Also, being easy helps. It's amazing what people will put up with if they think they'll get a shag out of it.
Lucky you, too, _going out with somebody who isn't going out with me_, that you are among poly people
Wrong again, sorry. I'm going out with a married man whose wife doesn't know, and will never know. He'll never leave her. My "poly" friends mostly a) think he is Evil Incarnate (they're wrong) and b) disapprove of the whole thing anyway (they're probably right). I'm not really supposed to talk about it. Friends mostly change the subject if I even so much as mention him. Unfortunately, he's absolutely everything I've ever wanted, except, well, available.
At the moment there's only one way I can see to resolve the situation, really.
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From: hairyears |
Date:
August 15th, 2004 06:38 am (UTC)
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Witter of Discontent
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He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber
To the lascivious pleasing of a lute.
But I, that am not shaped for sportive tricks,
Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass;
I, that am rudely stamp'd, and want love's Majesty
To strut before a wanton ambling nymph;
I, that am curtail'd of this fair proportion,
Cheated of feature by dissembling nature,
Deformed, unfinish'd, sent before my time
Into this breathing world, scarce half made up,
And that so lamely and unfashionable
That dogs bark at me as I halt by them;
Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace,
Have no delight to pass away the time,
Unless to spy my shadow in the sun
And descant on mine own deformity:
And therefore, since I cannot prove a lover,
To entertain these fair well-spoken days,
I am determined to prove a villain
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