Monday, 25 June 2007

This Old Heart of Mine

A fat belly of grey clouds hangs low across the sky, seemingly scraping the tops of buildings.

I’m currently listening to a comedy set in Bletchley Park on Radio 4 using a widget. Drifting up from the flat below is the gentle sound of a neighbour practising on her piano. Today is the start of the next stage. I’ve finished temping, I’ve a few days off before meetings and scouting outings and then the next job.

Whilst working in an office for the last 3 months I have been fortunate enough to find myself with far too much time on my hands – enough time to play around on Facebook, actually. Facebook is this years Myspace, which was last summers youtube, last decades friendsreunited, the last centuries actually meeting people. Anyway, old friends that I’ve never managed to keep in touch with, or wanted to keep in touch with, or even know, are now counted as ‘friends’ on this site.

The other day an ex from my University days appeared, a girl who was great fun, very pretty, but I never really got it working – partly because I was emotionally stunted and partly because – I am terribly ashamed to say – she said something to me at the moment that the opposition scored against me when I was playing a football management computer game. Possibly one of my lowest ‘relationship’ moments.

Then something happened. A photograph was on her site of another ex of mine. Someone who I had a terribly destructive relationship with – at a time when I was deeply unhappy, badly self-destructive (I went through a stage of getting into fights that I had no intention responding to, just to feel something) and not very healthy. I’d sprained my ankle in trials for one of the University’s many football teams, and had gone from being very active and relatively healthy, to static and bloated – not moving, eating badly, drinking too much.

Okay – so, enough wallowing. Seeing this ex brought back some strange feelings and not good ones. A series of dark, churning thoughts and aches went through me, sadness and regret bubbled about. Just to be clear, these are my feelings, they have little to do with her and more to do with me – seeing her was just a catalyst.

It was strange, to say the least.

Luckily, I am now far too busy to spend my days looking at such websites.

No comments: