volcanic's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- caveman my arse "Happy Valentine's, My Thoughts Are With You Today. Mr Caveman. Xxx" So... That's the text that woke me up at 4.07a.m. today. If you haven't sussed already, it was from Arthur. And it's left me feeling freaked and angry all day. My best friend thought that I might have been thrilled to have got it. Alas, no. For a start, it came at Four-bloody-Oh-Seven a.m. Arthur would have been finishing his night shift round about then. I, on the other hand, was fast asleep in bed, having been there since eleven last night, because I'm in the middle of a run of three days off, which is a rarity and a luxury- particularly because Fatboy's on half-term holiday this week. Sleep is a really precious commodity to me, and I value any opportunity to get serious, undisturbed chunks of it. Unfortunately, I use my mobile phone as an alarm clock (a fact which Arthur was well aware of when we were together) so it sits about six inches away from my head when I'm asleep. It didn't just wake me up, it woke Fatboy and our two cats as well, and what little sleep I got after that was complicated by a wriggly boy and two wriggly cats joining me in bed. I also don't have a clue what exactly Arthur's motives were in sending it. Part of me thinks it must have just been a pleasant "no hard feelings" friendly gesture, although, as my best friend pointed out, that's unlikely, and that it would have been more appropriate for him to have done that a few weeks ago, when he knew I was feeling low. Also, it's a lie that I'll have been in his thoughts today, because he will have been asleep for most of it. And I really don't want to be in his thoughts. he had eight months to have me in his thoughts, and during that time he had me in his thoughts strictly when it suited him, and according to his own subjective agenda. I made a specific decision to end things so that I would no longer have to feel the pain of not being sufficiently in his thoughts. My friend thought that maybe it was a half-baked and amateurish attempt to remind me, in an albeit manipulative way, that I could have had a boyfriend today, if I'd wanted to. I don't know. I don't know at all. The reference to "Mr Caveman" didn't amuse me, because although it takes the guise of one of those funny (not) Valentine's Day nicknames, a la "Fluffkins" and "Snugglypops", it does in fact hark back to the fact that Arthur's favourite way of not coping with the reality of my feelings was to sod off into his Mars & Venus-inspired bloody cave. he may still think that's funny. I don't. It costs 12p to send a text message. Possibly less, depending on which network you subscribe to. There's not a lot you can get for 12 sodding pence. About a third of a bar of chocolate or half a postage stamp. If he thought that I was worth sending some kind of greeting to, regardless of the motive, I'd have like to have thought that I was worth more than twelve pence. I haven't replied, because I really couldn't work out what to say. I didn't want to give him the knowledge that he'd woken me up so early, or niggled me, or give him the misguided view that he'd thrilled me to bits. Remember, the last time I heard from him was when he was denying that he was seeing anyone else. ...which brings me on to the condom. Remember when I was clocking up all the potential signs that there was someone else occupying his headspace? Well, around that time he suddenly started using a new wallet. Now, Arthur's an outdoorsy type, and his wallet was a battered old nylon Gelert one. All of a sudden he was using a smart brown leather one. And just after he got out the free cinema tickets when we went to see LOTR, he pulled out a condom, and laughed. "Look" he said "I've got a condom in my wallet!" and I laughed and asked him what it was doing there, and he replied that he'd always had one in his old wallet, and that he just transferred the contents into his new wallet (which he said he'd "found", interestingly). So yes, that's the story of the condom. On its own it's not very spicy, but taken in the context of all the other bullshit that Arthur was spouting round about that time, I sometimes wonder if it wasn't a case of him telling me and justifying it before I found it and demanded an explanation. Bizarre. Fucking bizarre. But on the plus side, fatboy (with a little help from his Nan) bought me a single rose and a box of chocolate fudge for today, which was very sweet and beautiful of him. And I had a lovely day. Big love to all of you, but especially you... 10:58 a.m. - 14.02.02 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
||||||