it's been busy around here
For the antisocial hermit I am, I do have quite the eventful social life.
Thursday, Chris came over. He called as he'd just finished interviewing for a job not far from here, and asked if it was okay to come over. I was all 'um, erm, uh...' so he said 'It's okay mate. It'd be nice to see you, but I understand', so I said, as you do, 'well, okay-but only for a minute', and twenty minutes later, the man who was so fucking tripped out once upon a time, was on my doorstep.
You know what? It was nice to see him.
Fark.
The immediate lesson here is I realise I'm no longer nurturing anything I'd previously associated with him. Granted, if I'd heard he was dead my reply would have been 'Really? Pass the salt.', but sometime between then and now, I let go of the fear, the anger, the hurt, the everything. It doesn't mean I've forgotten what happened, only that the bitterness of the past is no longer relevant in my present.
Of course, I'm wondering if I'm a pushover or a compassionate human being. The compassion I feel (and I do over analyse everything and think way too much about stuff, so I've thrashed this quandry over the last two days) is for him as a human, not him as Chris, but because it is Chris, the pushover question keeps bobbing back up.
I'm hoping that the second lesson here isn't one about leopards and spots.
*thinkthinkthink*
I've got nothing to lose though really, as I don't trust him anyway and if he's genuine, I could gain some faith in human nature.
He told me straight away that he'd just got out of gaol, which was a relief, even an acid test of sorts, of his sincerity. He seems so different now, so unsure and yes, I do wonder if it's all an act. I want to believe him and he's given me no reason not to. Yet. I won't forget the past though, because while it doesn't define the present, it still happened and it was still unpleasant.
Moving right along.
In the next installment from the Fucked Up files, I bring you the story of how James approached me on Thursday night to apologise for his less than stellar behaviour of several weeks ago. Criminy, two apologies in one day? There's got to be some serious weird shit astrolgy mojo going arund. Anyway and as an aside, knowing James has been quite an epiphany for me as, usually in the face of conflict, I waste a lot of energy wondering about what I did wrong and how I can fix it. Sometime though, between not that long ago and the incident, I realised I'm not responsible for anyone else's nutjobbiness. Rather than being frantic with worry, I shrugged of my shoulders and *poof*, James ceased to exist in my world. I have no desire to rekindle any friendship with this unpredictable fruitcake, but I'll no longer ice him out with my new found ice queen abilities. Apparently my ability to block him from my view really freaked him out. Heh.
I've mentioned I'm a slow learner before, and here's more proof. As a part of his apology, James told me of a friend of his, Nigel. Rich as shit, really nice, owns three houses, works only six months of the year and spends the other six months on a tropical island sipping Mai Tais. Seems Nigel has heard about me and being single, wanted to meet me. I've never had a blind date, and this guy is rich, so when James wanted to set us up, I thought'Jackpot!' 'Why not?', and while James was blowing smoke up my arse telling me how eligible Nigel was, I was already away on a tropical isle with a cabana boy, and sipping a drink loaded with fruit, umbrellas and swizel sitcks. I was hearing the Cha Ching of cash registers and totally missed any additional relevant information about, oh, sanity?
Fast forward to last night when Chris and I (yeah, again, long story) were at the beach. I'd alreay missed two calls from a number I didn't recognise, so when my phone rang again, I answered it. Yup, it was Nigel.
Fast forward again, to the bit where I told him I was out with a friend, yeah, he's male, and since you asked, no he's not my boyfriend'. Shortly thereater, he began bombarding me with text messages.
Wanna see?
And that, as they say in the movies, was that.
Thursday, Chris came over. He called as he'd just finished interviewing for a job not far from here, and asked if it was okay to come over. I was all 'um, erm, uh...' so he said 'It's okay mate. It'd be nice to see you, but I understand', so I said, as you do, 'well, okay-but only for a minute', and twenty minutes later, the man who was so fucking tripped out once upon a time, was on my doorstep.
You know what? It was nice to see him.
Fark.
The immediate lesson here is I realise I'm no longer nurturing anything I'd previously associated with him. Granted, if I'd heard he was dead my reply would have been 'Really? Pass the salt.', but sometime between then and now, I let go of the fear, the anger, the hurt, the everything. It doesn't mean I've forgotten what happened, only that the bitterness of the past is no longer relevant in my present.
Of course, I'm wondering if I'm a pushover or a compassionate human being. The compassion I feel (and I do over analyse everything and think way too much about stuff, so I've thrashed this quandry over the last two days) is for him as a human, not him as Chris, but because it is Chris, the pushover question keeps bobbing back up.
I'm hoping that the second lesson here isn't one about leopards and spots.
*thinkthinkthink*
I've got nothing to lose though really, as I don't trust him anyway and if he's genuine, I could gain some faith in human nature.
He told me straight away that he'd just got out of gaol, which was a relief, even an acid test of sorts, of his sincerity. He seems so different now, so unsure and yes, I do wonder if it's all an act. I want to believe him and he's given me no reason not to. Yet. I won't forget the past though, because while it doesn't define the present, it still happened and it was still unpleasant.
Moving right along.
In the next installment from the Fucked Up files, I bring you the story of how James approached me on Thursday night to apologise for his less than stellar behaviour of several weeks ago. Criminy, two apologies in one day? There's got to be some serious weird shit astrolgy mojo going arund. Anyway and as an aside, knowing James has been quite an epiphany for me as, usually in the face of conflict, I waste a lot of energy wondering about what I did wrong and how I can fix it. Sometime though, between not that long ago and the incident, I realised I'm not responsible for anyone else's nutjobbiness. Rather than being frantic with worry, I shrugged of my shoulders and *poof*, James ceased to exist in my world. I have no desire to rekindle any friendship with this unpredictable fruitcake, but I'll no longer ice him out with my new found ice queen abilities. Apparently my ability to block him from my view really freaked him out. Heh.
I've mentioned I'm a slow learner before, and here's more proof. As a part of his apology, James told me of a friend of his, Nigel. Rich as shit, really nice, owns three houses, works only six months of the year and spends the other six months on a tropical island sipping Mai Tais. Seems Nigel has heard about me and being single, wanted to meet me. I've never had a blind date, and this guy is rich, so when James wanted to set us up, I thought
Fast forward to last night when Chris and I (yeah, again, long story) were at the beach. I'd alreay missed two calls from a number I didn't recognise, so when my phone rang again, I answered it. Yup, it was Nigel.
Fast forward again, to the bit where I told him I was out with a friend, yeah, he's male, and since you asked, no he's not my boyfriend'. Shortly thereater, he began bombarding me with text messages.
Wanna see?
#1: I sense a little hurt from a man well im(sic) glad you learnt to give em(sic) heaps girl take case(sic) and be good.
#2: Complete assholes get a lot of sex that was taken from channel 5 it was a cool show about people whe(sic) have an opinion about caring.
#3: Damn it one of these days im(sic) gonna meet some one who has the same passion (editor's note: 'Passion'? Is that what they're calling 'a few roos loose in the top paddock' these days?) as me
And that, as they say in the movies, was that.
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