Then Comes the Clarity...

Disclaimer: This entry is likely to be up there with some of my most personal entries to date. And it is long. Very long.

Towards the end of January, I met somebody. ‘Online’ (so the saying goes). I looked at his photos & thought he had a nice smile, but I have to be honest; attraction on the basis of aesthetics alone was not really a feature. As we started to exchange messages, I found this person to be interesting, witty & in spite of myself, I was mildly intrigued.

As far as my memory serves me, we conversed for a while that evening & the following morning, I received a message saying that (again, as far as my memory serves me) he saw “no point in keeping it to [himself], that [he] was drawn to [me]& would really like to get to know [me] better”.

I didn’t reply straight away; I was busy heading to work and whilst I appreciated the apparent sincerity of the message, I was also a little thrown by the formality & forwardness of the approach. However, I replied with something suitably non-committal & nonchalant.

The day afterwards, I received another message saying that somebody who had been in this man’s life previously was now back in it & he was sorry to have messed me around. I seem to remember that I laughed & thought to myself: “what an idiot!”

When I found myself in receipt of another message a week later, to the effect of: “right, I’m done with that. What was your name again?...” naturally, I politely declined the invite...

Unfortunately, in an idle moment some days afterwards, I had another look ‘online’ & found it to be pretty much the same: aggressive looking Neanderthals; men who claimed to be 39 but looked more like 79; those who had mistakenly thought a photo of their uncovered flabby torso was the way to go....

The list goes on...

Amidst the dark caverns of the ‘online world’, I was once again drawn to read the entertaining & well-written profile of the person I speak of here. I messaged him to that effect & we struck up conversation again.

Thus ensued a month or so of occasional messages & two proposed meetings that I wasn’t ready to commit to at that time. One thing which kept me interested was that this person was keeping an online journal & I often read his general musings on the world & liked what I saw; he appeared to be politically, morally & emotionally well-adjusted. His writing was also laugh-out-loud entertaining & I felt that a rather vivacious personality shone through it.

The start of lockdown coincided nicely with me deciding that yes, I would like to meet this person but now it was going to need to be a virtual meeting- a FaceTime. It was not a bad substitute for the real thing & we fell into quite a pattern of regular FaceTime dates, where we were imaginative in how we could make them feel ‘real’ (dress nicely, have a drink...we even played a game or two).

Unusually for me, I was very soon swept off my feet. We shared a playlist with songs held close to our hearts & minds; we messaged each other constantly; we encouraged & supported each other in our lockdown challenges & whimsical ventures; we engaged in frivolities & camaraderie together which should ideally be enjoyed as part of a trusting & respectful relationship (silly me- I naively thought this was what we had built up!) We (as he wrote, not I) “bared our bruised souls to each other” & we broke lockdown rules to meet up in a very wide-open space where we “kissed passionately” and “held each other close“, thus confirming “our mutual desire to slowly begin entwining our lives”.

When I had expressed my anxiety that my deep wounds & the troubles of my past could become an obstacle to us, I was assured not to worry because he was “all in”. And the phrase was repeated & reiterated.

I was falling. I told two of my best friends that I was simultaneously excited & terrified at the prospect of perhaps/maybe/possibly being in love again. I was hopeful & optimistic at the thought that this could be wonderful & very right for me.

However, the tone soon began to shift.

At first, I thought I was imagining it but this just served to fuel my anxiety, which I tried to address. I would be given some short term reassurance but the feeling of those plates beginning to spin out of control again, crept back in very quickly. The past couple of weeks of this ‘relationship’ were confusing & full of inconsistencies (none of which were perpetuated by me).

Today I received the phone call (the one we don’t really want to have to have) where I was told: “my head tells me I should be in it but my heart just isn’t”.

Wow!... Wow!...What a kick in the teeth that was!

I immediately felt furiously angry with myself for getting so involved & for allowing myself to trust & to care so much. Most of all though, I felt I’d let myself down for not listening to the (now) glaringly obvious intuitive voice that was telling me to apply the brakes & unleash the helpful beast of self-preservation again.

However, Im not falling into that trap of self- deprecation. After consideration of the last couple of months of my life, I think the narrative here is as logical & matter-of-fact as the rows of foxgloves on this photo.

The person I write about here is on a journey (aren’t we all!) to heal himself. He is involved in a process of trying to find out what he wants as a result of the collapse of his second marriage & regrettably, I became guinea pig number three in aiding that process.

It’s hardly admirable behaviour & disappointing to say the least that (my) human emotion & feeling has become entangled in this one-man voyage to self discovery.

Of course, he’s not the first & I dare say he won’t be the last but he’ll certainly be the last of this particular caliber to darken my whatsapp notifications.

He (patronisingly) told me not to change anything about myself.

I won’t.

Thank you.

(other than perhaps my willingness to trust again, any time soon!)