The difference between being equipped and knowing you are is rather far apart. I thought I was equipped and rightfully so; I have been in scraps with guys twice my size. I did not however think that I would ever have to use those skills again. Then life throws you a curveball and somehow you’ve got to hit it or you will miss everything else.
I have tried for five years to make a relationship work.
Five years of my life I can never have back and five years where I have learned so much that I can’t even name all of it. I know three things for a fact however: ( some truthsCollapse )
So there you have it. I’m keeping these little notes in the back of my mind. Sure I just went through a month of hell, crying myself to sleep and going to the gym more than usual. I can’t mope physically when I feel down; it just creates a whole mess of depression. So I rather get angry and work out. Wear my body down until I’m too tired to think about how I should have loved her differently. But in all honesty there were way too much negative elements in the relationship to begin with. Yes, I do still love her, I get that, but I’m not dependent on seeing or hearing from her. I enjoy hanging out with her, but I don’t need her around all the time. She is essentially a friend. A friend I started dating and now that I have been broken down once again I refuse to do what people tell me to. I will go visit if I FEEL like it. I will be there for you yes, but if you tell me at 10pm on a Monday night to come out for a coffee, you should know better. I will not be confined again. I’m sick of the restrictions I placed on myself. I want to be selfish and love my life too. And it is about bloody time I think.
So that’s how this all ties up with the first couple of lines I started out with. I went out to beaulah bar with an optimistic, nervous and slightly confused mixture of feelings. I didn’t know what to expect because for the last two years I was cut off from the world. I lived a life where I went to work and back home to a girl and I’m not especially social to be begin with, which suited her structural world just fine. And now that I do not have anyone to go home to…I sort of freaked out a little. Panic set in; what to wear, does my hair look okay? I don’t smell funny do I? Do my socks match? (that one is always a big check on my list…seem to grab odd pairs way too often) And then when I got there it was like I haven’t really left. A few familiar faces and a bit of catching up was done. I learned that people actually thought I was out of the country again, but that there was a shock when they discovered I had not gone anywhere but a small town. Naturally I bumped into a few faces I wish I had not seen, but that is pretty average on a night out.
And then I realized that I’m starting to form part of the late 20something crowd. I mean I am almost leaving that phase and it was insane to see how many new faces were lining up at the bar. It was rather hilarious to see how awkward all these baby dykes are. I mean I know that I was also in that frame of mind, thinking I knew everyone and everything, but oh my word it is something else entirely when you are an observer to the madness. And a sober one at that – yes I did not have a single drop of alcohol in my system. And I had fun. Used some poppers though just to take the edge off the drunk people around me. Got my one darling gay boy friend a hook up and while I was walking around checking out the scene I realized something…there is no wholesome lesbian left wandering around here in winter. Yes. It was a sad revelation. They have all gone somewhere else, be that chilling at home to avoid the cold or just avoiding going out in general. I forgot how much “our” kind love to hibernate. Tsk tsk
So after setting up this boy with a stunning little multi-racial man and they were hooking up a storm I decided to retire to the car and smoke a cigarette. Which turned out to be a rather dodgy idea. Now if you are street smart you will know that often there are African men who push drugs outside bars. Often they are foreign and avoid being too obvious. This twat who approached me was not the brightest of the bunch. First off he told me what he sells. And then he kept following me. Commenting on my shoes and how I dress (which mind you didn’t look to shabby – even got miss mission who is pretty sour most of the time to give me a compliment) and then proceeded to try and mug me. I say try cause this is how it went down. He put his left foot next to my right, tried to draw my attention away from my jeans pocket and took my phone and drivers. Now he might have thought that I was drunk or did not have any sensation in my leg, but I actually smiled. He got the fright of his life when he tried to pull away and I yanked him so hard his chest sloped over. I remember swearing at him that he should give my fucking phone and drivers back and that he must think I’m fucking stupid not to notice. I’ve never seen a man give back stolen goods that fast. For extra measure I shoved him into the tarmac and told him to go fuck himself and that there are police officers around the corner if he wants to try that again. He fled. I grunted and walked off. I was so pissed off I even shouted at the car attendant. So all in all he got messed up by a little white girl, dead sober at two in the morning.
Hence I feel now more than ever that I am grateful for having lived the life I have. It might have been rougher than I would have liked, but it saved my life that morning.