volcanic's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- moving a little So... I went to the seaside today, which was a lovely and beautiful treat, lovingly provided by my dear best friend. Fatboy and I were out of the house at 8.30am, an hour when I'm usually still asleep on a Sunday, and we got the bus out to the countryside, and from there, three adults, two boys, two dogs and a gorgeous baby girl all squeezed into my friend's car, and off we went. The weather was pretty grim- very overcast, a bit drizzly and very windy, but the sea looked marvellous- really fierce and dirty white and angry, and the smell filled me with joy. If anyone knows a perfume that smells of the sea, do let me know. I can't think of anything I'd rather smell like right now. I think I crave water to temper my fiery arien nature a little, bring back a little balance and all that kind of thing. And of course, we talked lots and lots, in amongst eating chips in a dingey cafe, and drinking brandy-and-cokes on the pier. We even went in the amusement arcade and I tried in vain to win a teddy for my ungodly-daughter in the grabber machines. And we talked about Arthur, and how the bad stuff had been growing for such a long time before we even noticed, and I felt a little sad, really. I couldn't sleep at all last night, for thoughts of Arthur swimming round in my mind. Bizarrely, this character kept popping his head in, as well, which was most unexpected. Strange, because apart from the fact that they're both somewhat emotionally immature, there's not a lot they have in common. Although, having said that, perhaps if you ignore the superficial stuff, there are some similarities. Both of them had unresolved issues from previous relationships. Both of them were selective with the truth. Both of them made me feel like a total goddess for varying amounts of time, but then both of them changed their minds. This is fascinating! I could go on and on here, but I think it'd bore us all stupid. And the funniest thing is that not long after Arthur and I started seeing eachother, the pair of them had some kind of mild Mexican stand-off in the gents' toilets, which Arthur felt was his way of letting his predecessor know that HE was the main man now. Or something. I don't fully understand the nuances of the delicate male ego, but I think Arthur felt better after that. I also spoke to someone who knows Arthur well tonight, and was bemused to hear that Arthur had told our mutual friend that things were entirely amicable between us (possibly on account of the fact that we haven't actually spoken in a fortnight) and that I'd been very possessive of him, just like his ex-wife was. Bizarrely, Arthur's ex was so possessive about him that she went off and had an affair with someone else. The logic defies me. Arthur also failed to tell our friend that I'd decided to end the relationship because I was sick of his irrational and hurtful behaviour. Bless! I don't think there's any danger of him taking responsibility for his actions whatsoever, is there? My best friend suggested today that tonight I should make a point of writing about times when I've felt strong, as a reminder for when I'm not. I'm struggling a little... I think when I went out for lunch with her and her mum was one of the most memorable- I recall coming out of the restaurant and thinking how good it is to have intelligent and experienced women in one's life, especially when you need some straight talking. And I'm thinking of the day when I told Arthur that it wasn't going to happen between us anymore. We were standing at the till in TK Maxx, buying him some lovely Hilfiger jeans, and I told him that I wasn't going to go to Stratford to see our friends with him, because I couldn't sit in someone's front room and pretend that we were some kind of Stepford Family. All the words came out so calmly and carefully and without any thought at all. It really felt like I was channelling some kind of power from somewhere. I felt quite invincible. And the night before, when we were having a serious conversation about our relationship, and he'd been steeling himself for some kind of scene, and instead I was agreeing with what he said about us, about us not being able to go on as we had been, and about him needing his freedom and his independence. And I really did agree with everything he said, and he said afterwards that I'd taken him off-guard, because he'd thought I'd get really upset and cry, and I didn't. and it felt like a game, really, because he was coming out with all this very mature-sounding and reasonable stuff, and I was treating it like sport- verbal tennis or something: you say something clever, I'll say something cleverer and the winner seduces the loser. And of course I won. And the fact that he was so easily distracted by the thought of imminent nookie made me feel very contemptuous of him. and I think I realised then that my strength was there for me in a way that he wasn't- more reliable and trustworthy and ultimately just there. Blimey, I've wavered so far off the point there that there's no point whatsoever trying to pick up the thread again. But yes, I'm moving on. I'm not sure how far or how fast, really, because like most difficult journeys, it's three steps forward and two steps back. But I'm getting there... 11:13 p.m. - 27.01.02 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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