Thursday, 24 January 2008

Girls and I

I've been having issues, recently.

I'm single and happy. That's a fact. My last relationship ended really badly, disillusioning me towards humans for a while. My ex, whose name I'll withhold for legal and obvious reasons, and I had been together for 2 and a bit years, on and off. By the end of that period we were different people, and we'd grown apart. Me upwards into fun and her downwards into being boring, but different people sounds nicer. Anyway, in the end I just stopped speaking to her to see what she'd do. She predictably did nothing.

Recently I dreamt about her. Well, that's not wholly true. I dreamt I was an Olympic-level athlete in the new sport of Urban Swimming (don't ask) before dreaming about her. In this dream, she was over me. Utterly and completely, didn't give a shit about me anymore. New boyfriend, new life.

I woke up, irked. The fact that I felt irked, irked me even more. I actually don't care about her, anymore and I hope she doesn't care about me - although I suspect she probably does. And yet I still felt a genuine longing for her.

Problem is I remember her as two people, really. The student who I fell in love with and the 'professional' who was distinctly boring, predictable and unlovable. I miss the former. The dream (and subsequent dreamscapes involving ladies) was probably more about me.

Girls and I? Maybe. Although that'd be a bit too easy, psychoanalyticilly. The battle might be more inside my pretty little head. The complex management of the feminine and masculine sections of my subconcious is a perilous arrangement, probably not helped by the fact that, last week, that lovely pole dancer illustrated how out of shape I am on the pole, one of my favourite outlets of fun.

This also seems a bit easy and convenient. My overactive subconscious aside, I'm generally blissfully happy (if completely skint) recently, so there can't be that much to fret about. I don't know, to be honest, but it's useful to get my words down on a computer screen.

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