Point Break

It is just about to turn New Year and I am in a contemplative mood. Actually I’m in the sort of mood that is induced by large amounts of chocolate biscuits and World of Warcraft, because you know that’s what I want more than anything else at this time of year. So mainly that. But also a contemplative mood as I look back at the close of 2013 and face the coming months.

Recent events, including the sudden crash of Christmas Angels, and the resulting self-imposed quarantine lead me to have Thoughts about the nature of my relationships and in turn this has led me to break up with everyone I could possibly think of to break up with, that is, except for those who broke up with me first. Let us review all the people who have been major players in 2013 who I am no longer involved with.

  1. Sayed. We are through. Sayed uses words such as love and friendship but he does not know what these words mean. He thinks he knows, but he does not know. They are just sounds that he has learned from other people and he says them because it seems to be what people like to hear. I am sorry I did not figure this out when I knew him before. I could have figured it out if I’d been paying attention, but I was too busy having fun. It’s all fun and games until somebody puts an eye out.
  2. Head Honcho. Dead as a dodo. I hung on to him for so long because I suspected that he was the last man I would ever take seriously but that in itself is not enough to keep him interested or even awake. He is more bored than a plank of wood and there is nothing left that we haven’t said to each other.
  3. Abdul is lost and gone for ever.
  4. Chinese-Speaking Angel exited stage left.
  5. I broke up with Hussein this morning. The geographical distance plus severe language barrier proved completely insurmountable. If your whole relationship consists of fiddling with Google Translate just for the privilege of reading messages such as ‘I am vere angre why you dont text me’ and ‘I am in my acomodation I am going to kill myself’ then that’s not really a relationship, is it. In fact, it is a problem. One that I cannot solve.

I think that’s it. There’s no-one left. They are all gone. The old ones, the new ones, the distant ones. This is the most single I’ve been for a long time.

I don’t know where that leaves us. I guess I have about 10 weeks of The Hills Are Alive in which to think about it. In many ways, 2013 was a terrific year for romance. I fell in love regularly and all my lovers were carefully selected for not being able to offer any real commitment, because I don’t like commitment too much. So they were all carefully selected for being flighty and unreliable (Sayed), aggressively detached in a way that makes me look like an amateur (Honcho), thousands of miles away (Abdul, Hussein) or ridiculously too young (various, also see Hungarian Boy).

The thing is, I am still a textbook commitment-phobe and I still don’t want a proper relationship. My ex from many years ago recently remarried and I am happy for him but the thought of that happening to me fills me with horror. It steals your life and makes you old and I don’t want it. I especially don’t want family life. I especially don’t want in-laws. Or anyone’s children anywhere near me. I like single people who have no responsibilities and are free to go on holiday.

I have 10 or so weeks of gym starting right now, since it is now 1st January, in which to think about what kind of relationship I want next. It is tricky. I was enjoying the whirlwinds of romance of 2013, I enjoy falling in love and having crushes, but there may come a time when one feels that one wants something back, something in return. Yet I’m still fundamentally unavailable, meaning that someone who really liked me that much and had something to offer would be unlikely to have a particularly super time.

Maybe I am over-thinking the whole thing. I dare say when I have shed a few pounds, am in the swing of things at the gym and when the smiles of Delroy The Beautiful are once again part of my life, I will stop asking myself these difficult questions about what we can hope for from love. Because life is a little bit too short for that, and also for this post.

HNY, readers, HNY.

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