The Bitter End?

Oh, man. It stings again.

I don’t ever remember feeling this way before – or at least not for a very long time. A discussion of friends in his latest post and … it just has me wishing again. To be one. DEEMED one. (A friend.) You know…the more you want something. Lol

There are always these questions that start. “The people he feels closest to – Charlie, his ‘girlfriend’ (partner, missus, Other Half…whatever he seems most comfortable with acknowledging her as) – they have piqued his interest and kept him around for the longest time – HOW DO THEY DO IT?! WHAT’S THE SECRET? Honestly. I keep asking this. It’s a question I never dared air in public before today but I wonder…eternally! Is it really because neither of them are … “needy”? But then…doesn’t that make HIM the “needy” one?

I read an article once in which he said that he sends Charlie several emails a day and Charlie never replies. Lol – perhaps another one of Jim’s “embellishments”? Who knows?

The next thing I do is to wonder what happened. With me, personally. Did I bore him? Did I piss him off somewhere along the line? And when? What was it? I still keep account of it as some….affirmation that…it’s okay. He still likes me, I haven’t bored him. He’s not pissed off, etc, etc. April and “Jalopy”. Nothing since then. The odd ‘like’ to a comment. But even those don’t seem to be happening now.

I’ve even given up on posting to the FB visitor wall. There’d be interaction that would go on there too, for a time. But that soon died also. It’s how it all began, really. Hunter And The Hunted was posted there.

You know, the thing is…maybe *I’d* get bored. Lol. If there was somehow some interaction or correspondence with him on a regular basis. I might get bored. Lol. AS IF! I mean…THIS IS THE WHOLE POINT. I felt I had…SOMETHING. That we “talked” in a manner of speaking.

I loved those interactions SO MUCH. Just us having the odd Bowie talk or there’d be something about a SM song or some other piece of music. And it would be talked about between us. All public. I didn’t care! Just to feel like we were talking. It was wonderful.

And then I absolutely fell to pieces in July, 2018 – that whole “real fans” bollocks. I thought it was beyond repair. That he just HATED me and I was gutted. At least that was quick severance. Cut off the limb! Try to stem the flow of blood quickly and in time it’ll repair and heal.

But then it seemed okay. I was allowed back on SMO (as it was then) and then I had my meet and greet – and he joked with me! Well, I kept hoping it was a joke. In reality *I am the joke*.

I really wish I could pretend I don’t care. Or actually DIDN’T care! But if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be writing this kind of shit out, would I?

The last time I remember feeling this way is…when I was around 16. I was keen on this guy and I just wanted him so bad. His sister lived across the road. (She was 7 or 8 years older than him so she was living with her boyfriend who was our neighbour so…B, we shall call him, lived several streets away. Still what was deemed to be in the same suburb – Busby). I asked my neighbour for the phone number to her old house so I could ring B. I was such a chicken. I only called once or twice. I never knew what to say. What was I going to say? “Hey, want to hang out?” Lol. It’s kind of what happened – when I felt brave enough to try. Of course he wasn’t interested! Lol. If he had been, I would have been swatting him off with a cricket bat. Lol

Two years down the track, I was still hankering for him. His brother was getting married. Mum and me were minding the neighbour’s young ones while she went to her brother’s wedding. B came back to her house early. He came over to our house to see how his nephews and nieces were. A ruse, I’m sure, looking back. Anyway…he was dressed nicely. He’d just come back from a wedding after all and to me nothing had changed in two years. He looked gorgeous. He smelled amazing. I was a goner.

Sadly, I thought it would mean we’d “hang out” now. I’d call him to see if he’d want to “hang out”. They just ended up “booty” calls in the end. To me it didn’t matter. It was SOMETHING. Anything to just…have a bit of time with him. It could have gone on for ssooo long. It went on far longer than it should have. Thankfully, after several months, I met Roger who saved me from this sad, pathetic thing I had with B. A genuine boyfriend who wanted to be with me properly. At least for a while anyway.

I’m not comparing Jim to B, per se. It’s a very different thing. I wanted to bone B (not that I am saying that I don’t want that with Jim. Lol. But I am a realist!). It’s all those emotions and feelings you confuse yourself with as a teen: love, lust, friendship, admiration, desire, infatuation. They all blur and blend and you hardly know what’s what. I really was naive enough to think once I had sex with B that I’d be his girlfriend and we’d be together. Silly girl! I had no one to really talk to about it. No friends of my own age. I couldn’t talk about it with mum. My one close friend at that point was B’s sister. I couldn’t talk to her! Although she was aware enough how keen on him I was. I couldn’t talk to my sister. She had just gotten married herself and was preoccupied with that. I didn’t feel as though I could talk to her about those kind of things.

God, it’s all such a lifetime ago. And it’s all still fresh in my mind like it was just a short time ago. I’m nearly 50, FFS! And I’m talking about stuff that happened to me at 18 like it was fucking yesterday! It’s ridiculous how much B comes to my thoughts. His sister was at mum’s funeral last year.

Jim made it all feel safe. Like…here is this man I absolutely fancy the pants off – but he’s my friend, and that’s enough. I love him and I’ll never have him. But he’s my friend and it’s enough.

But it’s gone. It just feels like it’s gone. I guess I never had it. Or I just kidded myself that I did. Allowed myself to believe it.

And I keep wondering what went wrong. What happened in March and then after April and “jalopy”.

So…to stop it hurting I say to myself “just think of him in 1982. Just throw all the stuff into that. All that desire and hankering. All the wishing and praying. All the lust. Throw it all there.”

And like Alice…I’ve fallen down the rabbit hole once more. I talk too much. And share too much. Cry too much. FUCKING MENOPAUSE! I’m trying to accept it is happening but…I am still that 18 year old girl. When the fuck did I arrive at 50?! A lifetime has gone but I don’t feel as if I’ve lived it.

In the meantime…I’ve kind of worked on “art”. Will probably become a new blog banner in a day or two.