7 February 2009

It can really be bad sometimes...

It can really be bad sometimes; just sitting and walking and not living and not knowing how or why it's happening or how and why to stop it. If indeed you can? 

Perhaps the sheer inevitability of it all is what's scary. Being scared and being hurt. That’s being alive isn't it? You got to live through it?

I inevitably kicked off again last night. I didn't want to, really, really didn't want to, because, you know, there should be some emotional control? Isn’t that we we’re brought up to do? Well, at least enough so that you don't go embarrassing yourself (again) in public; or the people around you.

I really try just to not let it bother me but it's because I try that the forces build and build like someone shaking a bottle of fizzy water and despite the fact the tops on it all just either explodes or the top flies off hitting someone in the eye. That's what happened last night. Or I think it did. Can you analogise jealousy with an exploding bottle?

I'd had a great day talking to the Lovely Laura who'd been through a similar experience. If you really want something the whole world will conspire with you to make it happen. Or so 'they' say. That's fine if it's something positive but if it's negative; deep trouble emanates.

Anyway, this is what I've found out; jealousy is a taboo emotion. If you're experiencing it no one wants to know. Indeed that is the passive response. The active response can be downright hostility and if the hostility comes from the people close to you it serves to isolate and breed fear and paranoia. It is jealousy and it’s an emotion. 

I'm projecting the full force of this jealousy onto one person. But really it's not him. Not him at all. He's the catalyst; the catalyst that brought the full force of mine and Nero's oh so failing love right to the itchy surface of my freckled skin. And it's flaking. Bad.

So anyway, Laura was at this free party and she saw her boyfriend Jack kissing a girl called Heda. Not your normal sort of mwwwaa; hiya; how's tricks; I'm pleased to see you; we're chums kind of kiss. No it was a full blown plumber’s seal of a plunger.

Now welling up with strange emotions:
"I thought it was bloody well out of order" she said. She confronted him saying "what you doing snogging Heda in front of me?"

He replies that "it's only a kiss and that kisses mean no more than that. What's wrong with that? Can't a guy kiss his female friends?"

What made things worse was that Laura really didn't know anyone. All her friends he knew but he had lots of friends she didn't know. It made her feel isolated. Anyway, later, he disappeared into the woods and didn't come back for a few hours which left Laura thinking "where is he?" When he did come back he made excuses and proceeded to ignore her for the rest of the party. Near the end they were all sitting around and Laura just happened to be sitting next to Heda and Jack shouted over that there was Laura, the girlfriend who wouldn't let him kiss other women. This isolated Laura over the next few weeks as people avoided her and would occasionally say to her "oh, you're Jack girlfriend and won't let him kiss other women". Which, of course, wasn't true but became true because Jack told everyone that it was.

At another party, outdoors again, Laura's ‘off it’ walk in the woods saw her sitting in a clearing deep breathing till the effects passed. When she got back Jack came up and demanded to know where she had been. The trail of mutual suspicion had begun and soon occupied their every waking moment, especially at parties. What with mutual recriminations, accusations and counter accusations, tears, storming off in huffs, big shouty public arguments and counterproductive and obvious snogs with other people the writing was well and truly on the wall for them.

It was Jack’s last night in the UK before he flew off traveling and he was out with Laura. The previous month’s aggression had died down a little but he was still ignoring her at this party. He had her weed but wouldn't let her have any of it. Later he disappeared and returned hours later only to be met by Laura asking where he had been.

"I've been to score some weed for someone", he says. "Fine", she replied, "can I have my weed now?"

"I've smoked it. And I've got none left. But you're still taking me to the airport tomorrow?"

You have got to understand that I’m recounting Laura’s version of events and she might not paint Jack in too good a light. Laura just kept real quiet and vowed to herself that she wasn't going to take him to any airport or anything. Next morning she awakes to find Jack asleep in a drunken stupor in another room.

"I will not wake him so that he misses his plane", she says to her self. "But, hey, hang on. If he misses his plane he'll still be here. He'll be pissed off and shouty and still be around to give me more of the same". She decides to wake him.

All the way to the airport is one big slanging, emotional pie fight. He refuses to get out of the car and go till she promises to still be his "best friend". She does not want to but says it anyway. He goes. It is the end of the relationship.

The whole point of this, to me your ever so flawed narrator, was the beginning of the end of Laura and Jack started with jealously. The killer emotion. The consuming emotion. The destroying emotion. The slow burning inevitability that your once precious relationship is no more. I am not going to let this happen to me and my relationship with Nero. At least I think it won't. This strange emotion that lets you think it's been beaten then, wham, it jumps back up and out and says "flame on" and you burn bright orange heat of destruction and it consumes all before it. "I'm here and I'm in control" it says. "And there's nothing you can do about it".