Reality Hits, Cooking Wine Heals.

Tonight I sit with a glass of red balanced on my tummy.  I’ve sat here for a good 60 seconds watching it twitch back and forth with my heartbeat,  trying to decide if vinegar is indeed what I fancy.  Hmmm.  Cooking wine.  Who makes casserole these days anyway.

Here’s my motivation for supping on a school night.
On Wednesday,  the girl from London (see earlier posts if curious), turned up in Leeds out of the blue and asked Him to be with her,  properly.  She has said she will move here to be with Him. This is the girl who he couldn’t give up to be exclusively with me,  whose photo I found in his top draw.  To cut a long story short,  he is considering,  based on his friends advice, saying yes.  He’s wanting to settle down…why not with this suspender wearing polish girl who is confidently strutting her love in front of him?
Why not indeed.
Except…What. About. Me.  What is wrong with me.  I’m here,  in front of him.
We’ve spent the last few weeks living in each others pockets… talking daily,  giving each other advice, support, love and company.  We’ve slipped into old habits. Why can’t he see me? My hair is big enough…
We have refused to label our weird ass ‘relationship’ so as not to scare each other off because it was working as it was…  ‘let future us worry about it!’ we said.   Neither of us thought we’d have to make any kind of decisions about our floaty existence together for a long while but…
The future is happening.  The ball is in his court. 
At first I wondered if I should fight for him,  throw in my bid.  But you know what?  If he can’t see how FUCKING AWESOME I am without me puffing up my feathers,  she can have him.

If I can convince you I have self belief…perhaps it’ll happen.

A couple of observations on Love and Life for you friends… sweet, sweet vinegar calls.

** My theory **
Is love not just connections forming between the nerves in your brain?
You meet them.  It goes well.
You associate their person, image and smell with a positive experience.
Every time you see something that reminds you of that experience…FLASH,  the connection gets stronger.
The more time you spend with them and are happy,  the more positive connections form and the more that form,  the more likely you are to fire jolts of embarrassing anecdotes into your conversations.  ‘Oh yeh!  My other half has a similar looking jumper,  it’s toasty huh!’.  You go for a walk and see a canal boat,  just like the one you saw on your second date (which was awesome).  A spark of consciousness goes from your walk,  to an image of your second date and hey presto,  he’s in the forefront of your mind.
You MUST love him.
When you loose them,  it takes time for those connections to disappear.  Some people force them to by removing stimulation,  removing the letter from under their pillow or the half finished bottle of white from the fridge.  Once those wires aren’t use any more they become fryable,  break and can’t be used.
You move on.

** My Questions **
Is life about things like, riding a bike, fresh air, chilli jam or seeing the sun rise?
People say if you haven’t loved and lost,  you haven’t lived.  Do we have to experience pain to have lived?
Is that what childbirth is about?
Does that mean the old couples dancing the funky chicken at their 75th wedding anniversary have missed out?
What are they lacking other than cynicism,  bitterness and a leathery skin on their heart.
Do they need to be prepared for pain if it isn’t guaranteed?
No.  Let them dance.  Lucky sods.


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