Dont read this post if you have never had a girlfriend

I have come to the conclusion, that I have never really loved anyone except myself, and I suppose my parents. The boys have come and gone, and yes there have been quite a few, but in all honesty, I never actually loved any of them. They were amusing and diverting and served one or more of numerous purposes (purposi?) and when they stopped being useful or fun I 'realised' that I no longer loved them, explained the situation as gently as I could and moved on.

If you are thinking 'bitch', then yes, you're quite right. I really was.

Ooh very clever, you have caught onto the 'was' bit! My life has changed a great deal since the advent of Blue nearly eight months ago. I know we all have ideas of how we will love, and who we will love and what kind of relationship we should have, but we really shouldnt bother. There will come a person who will simply make anything but themselves unimportant, and you will agree to whatever, because the warm bubbly feeling you get when you hear them say they love you is illegal to induce in any other way.

Strangely enough though, this post is not about the joys of love. I havent become that much of a pink puff ball, thank you very much. This post is about unhappiness, because with love and happiness comes hate and unhappiness. Its a rule, and you cant change it.

Insecurity. It is such a bitter word. I am faced with a past, that haunts me. If it was my past that haunted me i could still deal with it, but when the past that haunts you belongs to someone else its all you can do to just make sense of what it is that is making you so damn miserable.

I had a wonderful uncle who gave me the gift of sexual fear when I was very young, but its never been a problem until now. I curse him everyday, because the man has given me so much baggage that I can only dimly see the reason behind my raving mania, explainig to someone else is near impossible. When it comes to sex and love, and the way the two combine, there is such a mess of memory and hate and anger and fear and inadequacy in my head, that I become, well, borderline insane.

As a result, any mention of Blue's past exploits (and unfortunately for me, there are a lot of them) and I feel like I imagine a beer can must when some drunk man crushes it against his head. I deflate, I am crushed, I lose all former shape and huddle inside myself in puddle of what i was ten minutes ago.

I am not a possesive person, but the kind of rage and hate I am confronted with in these moments is paralysing. And i know that Blue doesnt understand. Its mostly because Blue doesnt know.

Ah forgive my lengthy ramblings. I love and I am loved. The rest can be swept under a carpet.

With this ring, I thee wed…

So marriage. I can’t say that I have spent too much time thinking about the institution. It’s always been there obviously, at the back of my mind, I am after all a good Indian girl and subject to the strings of the stereotype. Not too long ago however, I made up my mind never to get married. I had discovered much to my delight that I fell in and out of love every three months or so, and being perfectly content with the idea of doing it for the rest of my life I happily told the universe that love and marriage were not for me. I could not in all honesty imagine finding someone I could love forever, and so marriage seemed a rather stupid plan. And in view of all the horrible marriages I had seen erupt all over the place, it seemed like a stupid idea to even believe that you could love someone forever. I was saved from the terrifying trap that so many had fallen victim to, oh great joy!!

Right, so in this context, I have been rather solidly buggered. I have now been madly in love with the most unlikely man for seven months and counting, and instead of dying down, I appear to be showing rather alarming signs of falling even more in love with him. It’s terrible. There is nothing worse than being un-cynicised by life. You feel so profoundly stupid and generally childlike. I keep waiting for something to happen and for the rapidly diminishing cynic in me to jump up and say “AHA! I was right after all!”

Which brings us back to the original point of marriage. Once the subject was broached and I got over the initial barf reflex, I have discovered much to my surprise that not only do I want to get married, I have ideas about it. About what I’m going to wear and who I will invite and what is going to be served at which ceremony. Oh yes that’s right, I apparently want ceremonies. In plural. Where did I develop these horrible thoughts from? I have no recollection of ever consciously thinking about it. When did my traitorous girly mind form these plans, and how did it do so without telling ME?

Marriage, the life and not the day, isn’t terribly unappealing either, though that’s possibly because I am already living like I’m married to this man. I wash his underwear and he takes days off from work to look after me when I’m sick. It’s wonderfully comforting, and I wonder if could go back to my hit and run love affairs. It seems the guy who devised this whole ‘couple’ idea knew what he was doing. I recommend true love and mushiness to everyone! Go out and find someone you can cuddle and will respond when you refer to them as ‘Snugglybuns’ and Pookiepoo’. It’s surprisingly fun.

Introspection

Ah, the smell of obsession.

Not sadly, the perfume, but the actual emotion. I am drowning in it today,its powerful fragrance complemented by hints of jealousy, insecurity and just a dribble of yearning. What is it about this man?

I light another cigarrette, gaze up at the darkening sky from the thriteenth floor of my glass tower. How is it possible, that I have so little faith in a man who has done nothing to undermine it.

THe kites that are my guardians scream above me, their claws outstretched as they race towards a demon that swirled above my head. They rip it to shreds and I watch chunks of fears rain down on the cars below. I breathe in. Not smoke but air. It must be me.

The breeze blows across my face and I realise I am asking too much of a man who has given me everything. Breathe in. I know how he feels, even if he doesnt say it all the time. Even if he doesnt look at me the way I think he should. I need to stop thinking.

The kite screams again and I feel lighter. I walk back inside amidst a shower of broken fears and a dying terror that I might still lose him. The kites will scream again tomorrow.