They’ve gone!
As soon as the door clicked shut on their retreating forms I switched on the trinity of the kettle, the heating, and every available light downstairs, which has a strange sort of religious synergy if you are inclined to think about it a worshipful way. I then kicked off my shoes, unzipped my uncomfortably tight dress and collapsed on to the sofa with the New York Times and the childrens’ Easter Eggs.
Three entire days to do exactly as I please. The thought makes me positively swoon with ecstasy. I’ve cancelled all my appointments, decided to put any extra work on hold and I’m going to devote the whole time to creative pursuits and spontaneous naps. Bliss!
Do you know, I can’t actually remember the last time I allowed myself to do this. I’m always rushing around doing things, making plans, taking action and trying not to sit still, or else I’m listening to stories and thinking “I MUST write that down!” and then I don’t. Because I forget or I make a cup of tea and then its gone.
Yesterday we had a family over in the morning and the mother told me a little about her childhood in rural Arizona in a town of fewer than 8000 people. So different from my life, and yet human experience brings us all so close, doesn’t it? It reminded me of a friend of mine who I don’t see anymore. Someone who changed the way I looked at life forever but the sad likelihood is that I will never see her again.
I started to write about her yesterday and then I couldn’t stop. It was like that fable where whatever you start doing at midnight you’ll be destined to do until the break of day and I found that the more I remembered of what she said, the more I recalled of what she didn’t actually say but I understood to be there. Hers was a dark, sad tale, full of abuse and betrayal, but also full of fierce determination, defiance and dark humour. This last was somewhat odd as she is the only person I have ever known who is actually worse at telling jokes than I am, I’m giggling just recalling her try to tell you a joke, realising she’d forgotten the punchline then saying, crossly,
Wait! This is just some dumb fucking joke! I can’t believe I can’t remember how it goes. Right. Get me a piece of paper, I’m going to work it out SCIENTIFICALLY and then I’ll tell you properly. Hey! What the FUCK are you laughing at?!
By which point I’d be doubled over, practically weeping with laughter at her furious expression and bony fingers clutching a pen, stabbing at bullet points with her perfectly manicured nails. She wore bright red lipstick and jet black eyeliner. Her clothes were breath-squeezingly tight and would have looked obscene on anyone with a less astounding body. She was brazen and broken, had incredible sweetness but was also utterly ruthless. She’d tell you stories of her life that you would find hard to believe if you didn’t know how chaotic and extraordinary her daily existence actually was, and as I witnessed quite a few of these episodes I found it all too easy to believe her. But in recollection, it’s what she omitted but I heard anyway that tugs at my heart the most.
She was a pain in the ass, but I miss her. Sort of.
Do you have people like that? Ones you don’t exactly wish were in your life now, but you miss them anyway?
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Oooh we have matching free days! I’m going to spend my three trying to write something good and eating.
Anyway, yes, I have lots of people like that who were once in my life. I remember them fondly, but wouldn’t necessarily want to rekindle any sort of friendship. They pop up on Facebook now and then, ‘liking’ my status’, and then they go away again usually.
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