The Promise

30 10 2008

I was 16, started my first job and feeling scared and very unsure. I had just come through what I call now my ‘forgotten year’ – I’ll tell you about that one day when I have the courage to write it without worrying that people will think me insane and incredibly strange – and I covered my lack of confidence and strength by being difficult. I was over opinionated, defensive and I lacked direction, but most of all I lacked a confidante, a friend, someone to turn too, in a world so full of loneliness and bitterness my only prayers were for someone who would understand.

Anthony was a couple of years older than me, not the most drop dead gorgeous person I have ever met in my life, but the most attractive person I have ever known, how’s that you think? Easy, everything about him was almost bewitching, he was funny, he was nice and he made me feel like I was a complete person again, something which at that time meant more to me than any amount of money could have ever done.

We worked together, he was a van driver, I worked in the office, we was joined together by our loathing of the hatred of the wages we were paid and the boredom of the job, we became friends, good friends.

He gave me confidence to put my life back together and I found the courage to contact an old friend and she and I began to go out drinking/clubbing/shopping etc and one night I went to a club with her (and a bloke who apparently liked me – it seems nasty I guess when I look back now, but he got lost in the equation and I remember little about him that night) and Anthony was there. The drunker I got, the more I realised that if I never told Anthony I liked him I would never know if he felt the same, so I did. Just like that, a drunken conversation and you know what? He did feel the same, we kissed right there in the middle of the club like you do after you both own up to liking each other in your teenage years and that’s where it all started.

We went out for ooohhh maybe a month or two *smile* I was a bitch just as I always have been. And well, he figured me out too easy. He saw through the façade and was honest enough to tell me to shut the fuck up when I went into a fit. But he couldn’t stop me hurting myself and everyone around me with my un-rational emotions and in the end my emotional un-stability was just too much for him to be around.

Sometimes it was like we were normal teenagers, sneaking around to spend time with one another when one of out parents were out, meeting his friends and walking miles to see each other. But other times, the strangeness of me, the separateness of my life was held there for all to see, the way I lacked basic social skills, I would sit in a room so quiet with all his friends, never joining in looking scared and unsure, and then afterwards the angry person would rear her head. I lacked basic understanding of how the world worked, the time to be quiet and the time to speak. I feel both pity and hatred for the young girl I was back then.

We never slept together back then, I was 16 and quite naïve at that – but there started the most unusual emotional tie of my life. After that my life took on a new turn, the phone started ringing, I started living, I still never calmed down, we all know that’s only just something I have been working on recently, sort off. But I got better… I got better at hiding it anyway and got on with things. But every couple of months, years whatever we would drift back together, I felt tied to him. I know he had girlfriends but I never asked about them and he never told me. And then when I was 18, after a drug-induced night, I slept with him. He was my first, I was happy and I knew in my heart I was going to love him forever – whether he wanted that love or not – so I never regretted it, quite the opposite as the years have passed and my promiscuity has intensified I look back now at that time as the most cleanest time of my being – it’s a sad type of life when there has been so many men but I can hand on heart say only two have been emotionally linked to me and felt the same emotion back.

So on the story went, I would see him every few month we would sleep together, talk a lot, I would get to be close to him – I never asked him for me than he gave. I guess in my heart I knew he wouldn’t give, couldn’t give it to me – I didn’t deserve more, not from someone like him.

He was my friend, he was the person who rescued me from a hundred crazy situations, the person who would come round and tell me to sort myself out when I looked on the verge of losing it. He stood my ground many times and told me what he thought honestly in the privacy of our own conversations, I loved him all over again every time I saw him. I wanted him for more than just a physical side, I wanted him emotionally, I wanted the person who saw me for what I really was to tell me that he accepted the real me and could love the person I was back. That never happened and each time the rejection came to me we would blow, arguments would come and we could spend months without speaking.

Then he stopped ringing, changed his number and I never knew the new one, I heard random things about him through the grapevine, mainly about a girl he was with. Then a couple of years later I met up with him in a bad situation, I got with a bloke who I fell for as hard, though in a different way as I did Anthony, he didn’t like it – they were friends – and we end up arguing, after that we never spoke for a long time and both got on with our own lives. I heard he had a kid with that girl.

We started talking one night in a club about 2004 time, just as friends, I remember thinking things would never be the same. He had split up with the mother of his child and was on his own again. We started seeing each other again, it lasted a month or so and dwindled out, nothing major happened, it was just all very confusing, he was recently separated from his ex and I had a feeling he would go back to her. Once again I felt like I didn’t deserve his time.

After that we drifted back together a few more times, the same things happened, we made love, me laughed, we argued, we have both battled highs and lows with alcohol and drugs, we both partied too hard and too much though mostly separately what brought us together was something different. When I left the UK we were on good enough terms and have kept in contact since, through facebook and text’s etc. He has always been in the back of mind, its not something that is even subconscious, when I fail or when I fair well I wonder what he would think, what he would say or do if he was with me, he is like a silent guide on my shoulder who I hold my darkness too to see if it brings him light. What I do know is that if he is constantly in my mind right now.

Last night I sent a text message and he rang me today. We spoke for about half an hour and all I kept thinking was tell me something, give me a small grain of hope that if I came running you would catch me. He spoke about how we always have our arguments, but in the end we always find our way back to one another – I am pretty sure he meant as friends, as we all know I have never offered much in the way of emotions to anyone.

But what if I am meant to go back, what if I meant to go and try? People have told me that if I stop listening to the noise all around me I will hear what is being said in the quietness of my own being. What if I am meant to go back to the very start? What if the 11 years that has passed between then and now have meant something all along.

What if its time for me to go and be honest about the way I feel, without pretence without fear, if he rejects me now then maybe I would know that it was to never be. But if he doesn’t reject me, maybe I can try and be the person I know is inside of my somewhere the person who cares and has something to share not just the cold empty shell that people think I am.

I am always going to be difficult, I would not stake any type of bet on him wanting me, of even understanding why I am trying. But what if he really is where I was heading all along.

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