He’s gone!
It’s the insecurity, the uncertainty about it all that bothers me.
On the other hand, I get my weekend back – at least this one.
He says he will phone me when he gets there.
I am, at once, disappointed, angry, upset, ………..I can write no more right now.
25/3/10
He turns to me and slips his free arm around me; his other being above my head – I’ve tried this but can’t do it. He cuddles me and he’s warm and it feels good.
There are times, many times, when I feel secure in his love, knowing, as I do, that we both want this.
As I think of it now it gives me that warm feeling, deep inside, warming me in a way that, although not true, I’ve never been warmed before.
He wasn’t feeling so well. His stomach – although what, exactly, was wrong, I still couldn’t ascertain.
He wanted to watch L’isola di famosi which is the Italian version of I’m a celebrity get me out of here – but it’s not quite the same, we are in Italy, after all.
I lay on the bed with him and just wanted to hug him and kiss him but, instead, didn’t even touch him as he had the bad stomach and, even after this short time together, I know better than to do that.
So I let him reach for my hand; him turn over to me and rest his head on my shoulder – yes, he calls the shots and, sometimes, I feel as weak and stupid as a baby.
I write this on my way to Bologna; the restaurant is booked for lunch. I invited him to come but he couldn’t or didn’t want to – I suspect what with tomorrow and the test results and the travelling down to his parents, etc.
And I think that he will miss me and think that he wants me with him and I wonder when he will be back home and what he will want to do when he gets back.
In the meantime there is this evening – S&N’s leaving aperitivo. I have made arrangements to go with L, who lives round the corner from me. He is invited. I made the decision that I couldn’t wait for him or ‘not go’ and, so, I go anyway. We shall see if he comes or, if not, then what he will propose for the night – me having made the decision that I will be strong and stay at mine – knowing all along that I am as weak as a baby when it comes to him ………
He doesn’t want to talk about it. He doesn’t want me to come. I took Lola’s advice (thanks Lola) and asked. I think he appreciated the thought but then said he doesn’t want to talk about Friday.
He doesn’t want me to come to Tuscany, either. Well, actually I don’t know that he doesn’t. Anyway, it’s probably a good thing not to go. Too many difficulties in that. This all needs to be a more gentle introduction. I am being too selfish.
And, yet………
It’s not like he’s pushing me away. He’s just stubborn – even more than me. He’s already told me that when he’s ill he doesn’t even want anyone in the house, let alone looking after him.
He’s a strange guy, for sure.
Last night we went to see a film – Mine Vaganti. This was a really difficult one for me as all the talking was very fast and, although I had already got the plot from the internet, I missed out on some of the jokes, of course.
Then we went for a pizza at Le Specialità . We were with a colleague of his and her husband. They raved about the pizza but, at €14 plus for a pizza with ham, I thought it was overpriced – about double what I would normally expect to pay – and although all the ingredients were obviously fresh, it was not worth the doubling of the price.
Still, a nice evening and at least I did understand the film, more or less (although it was all a bit ‘done before’).
On the way home he mentions about going to his parents and that he hadn’t really made up his mind. He added that it was six months since he last saw them. I said that he should go – that he had to go, kicking myself inwardly as I said it. But it’s true. He must/should go. By doing it this weekend we keep Easter free for us. He explained the excuse he would give for going down this weekend rather than Easter. It would seem that he wants to spend Easter with me. Maybe we go to the lake or for a day out or two and lunch in a restaurant.
Either way, I think he wants to and doesn’t want to go – in as much as he wants to spend the time with me. I think. I hope.
He sends me a text. It has a smiley after the sentence as if everything is now OK. Of course, this was the hurdle and I do understand but, still, its not done and dusted yet. In three days the result although I shan’t see him until several days afterwards which is, if I am honest, more than a little annoying.
I don’t know what he wants. He says, last night, by chat, before I went over (I went over because of this morning because he has to be home before an “important event”) that he had to go to his parents because he hadn’t seen them in six months. I knew. I have no problem.
Yes, I do. Even as I write this, I get that clenching in the stomach. It seems he just won’t let me in to certain parts of his life. Or maybe its me with the problem? Yes, probably, that’s it. We are a couple and not a couple. At least, as far as I am concerned.
19/03/10
I wish I could feel differently but I can’t. I hate being on customer site. It’s like I have to put on a show – it’s like being on stage and I don’t actually relax at all.
As a result I am tired; exhausted. Even with my colleagues I feel it is a show.
Of course, it doesn’t help that my private life remains so private. But that’s my choice really.
Customers are even worse from that point of view. They talk about their family, their houses, their vacations; I don’t. It’s not because I am fearful of letting something slip because I don’t really care that much, it’s just that it makes it all such hard work.
So I feel more alone and the show becomes a 24 hour thing for however many days it is. Not that most people would care one way or another but, you know ……
Still today is the last day. Tomorrow there is only the flight back and then I am free. I am free and able to be with the man I love and the dogs.
I am so looking forward to that.
He has to go for the test. It’s been more than six months. He should have gone before. He didn’t because……?
But he’s been worrying about this for a few weeks and, therefore, no sex although, stupid as I am, I only twigged that was the reason, last night.
And it was supposed to be this morning but he had a bad night last night, partly because of my snoring. And, so, he didn’t get up in time. He says he will go tomorrow. I wonder if it’s procrastination on his part?
Also, he said last night that he will go to his parents this coming weekend. I said ‘OK’ – what else was I supposed to say? I don’t really mind at all (and by that I mean, I don’t really mind that I won’t be going) but I wish he had never invited me down in the first place, those weeks ago. If he hadn’t invited me down then I would not have had expectations. I wonder why people don’t get the ‘exceed their expectations and all will be well’?
On the other hand, his best friend from Austria, Fi, may come over for the Furniture Fair and Best Mate has said she’s coming over just after Easter for a few days!
I hate travelling.
Well, that’s not really true. The actual travelling I don’t mind so much. I hate the bit where you have (as in this case) half an hour before you get the taxi or whatever. If I were going on my own, I would get a taxi now and go. I would be at the airport early but no matter. However, I have to get a taxi in about half an hour and pick some other people up along the way to the airport. So I am ready (more or less) but have half an hour to spare.
I hate to be late but, in this case, I cannot be early. I hate the thought of missing the plane (even if I don’t actually want to go) and so I am early and ready but am now twiddling my thumbs, so to speak. The kettle is boiling for my last decent warm drink for some days to come.
The weather here has warmed up quite a lot. Now we get highs of 15 or 16 degrees in the afternoon. Where I’m going it will get to 3 degrees, if I am lucky and there might be some snow. I am going, quite obviously, much further north. Regular readers will know that I don’t like ‘cold’. Hmph! Already, I can’t wait to get back.
F is away also so I have had to make other arrangements for the dogs. Not ideal but the best I can do. F is back on Friday night so will stay with the dogs that night. I am back the next day. I miss him a lot but you have no idea how pleasant it is to be with someone who a) loves their job and b) works hard at it. I really have no problem with it, even if I miss him like crazy when he is away.
The night before last, he received some gifts for his birthday (more than 2 months later). Tickets to see Whitney Houston in Milan and a night at a range of hotels in Italy. As he rightly pointed out, I get the benefit too.
One of the things with V was that V would say something but it would never actually transpire. I’ve found that F does the same. It’s not quite the same but annoying all the same. So, the ‘we’re going to Tuscany at Easter’ has turned into him going to Tuscany the week before or something like that. I mean, I don’t mind but I wish he hadn’t said that it was ‘we’ in the beginning. It’s not that he doesn’t keep his word, exactly, it’s just that when the time actually comes, with all the logistics, things change, whereas, if I say something then, for me it is set. Still, I’m learning and at least it is not as bad as V’s specials.
So now we have no specific plans for Easter. It’s only the extra days’ holiday but I intend to take some extra days off and make it longer. I’ve told him but I think I shall have to tell him again. Maybe we can go to Mantova for a day or to the lakes to my friend’s mother’s house. Maybe. It’s all a bit unclear. But I really want to spend some time with him away from our houses, away from Milan, in a way, to force us to spend more time together. See, I’m still worried about the fact that we have nothing in common; that we have done nothing ‘together'; that we’re not building a ‘history’.
Still, there are times when it seems so ‘easy’. He shows me affection (in his way) and I try not to touch him too much, not to annoy him. But, for certain now, the discussion is ‘where we spend the night’ not ‘will we spend the night together’. And it usually revolves around practical things like he wants to see the dogs or the other night when he was getting up early to go to Spain (and therefore it was better to be at his place).
And he still makes me laugh. And I still adore him. And I miss him.
The next few weeks are important (I think). His last relationship lasted 6 months. The guy saying ‘I love you’ very often until one morning, after the ‘I love you’s of the night before said that it was all over. F didn’t understand. So now he is less trustful but I try to show him that I am true and faithful and honest and stick to my word. It’s all I can do but still, I feel, he doesn’t really ‘relax’ into it all. And, of course, nor am I ‘relaxed’ into it all, as you may tell from my posts.
And now I have 15 minutes before I leave and so I leave you, for a few days whilst I go to a place that, for me, might as well be the North Pole!
Even if I was good, in spite of what Gail might say, this cannot possibly describe how good it was.
But first, some background. Music. I like music but, with the exception of some songs/artists, I wouldn’t call myself a ‘music lover’. I like what I like – some of it good and some of it, maybe, to you, bad. I wasn’t brought up in a house full of music even if my paternal grandmother taught us to play the piano (well, “play” – I say play in the loosest sense). Certainly it was not a household filled with classical music, my parents never really going in for record buying in a big way.
I found music at about the age of 13 when I was given a radio for Christmas and my maternal grandmother introduced me to Top of the Pops and, in particular, Mott the Hoople (because my mother used to sit on the same school bus as Mick Ralphs). I listened to a crackly, distorted Radio Luxembourg, late at night, under the bedclothes.
My passion was voices and, especially, the more unusual, rougher, deep voices – ones that seemed to have something to say (or sing).
And then I started to go to concerts. Many, many concerts. I loved (still love) going to concerts. There’s something about seeing someone ‘live’ that just cannot be captured by disc.
But, there was always a point in the concert (every concert) that I really disliked, almost hated. This was the part where the musicians showed off their talent with whatever instrument they played. I found (find) it boring. Improvisation – just another word for making noise. I mean I could tell they were talented but that didn’t make it enjoyable for me. It’s noise without words and, for me, a song is all about the words and the singers voice.
We were going to see Pat Metheny. F had played some tracks to me on several occasions. But ours is a new relationship and I don’t want to say that I find it rubbish (which isn’t exactly true since I can tell he has great skill – it’s just boring). He loves Pat Metheny and what he loves I love (but for entirely different reasons). I bought the tickets. €50 a pop! And I wasn’t even going to enjoy it!
And so, it was last night. At Teatro Smeraldo in Milan. OK, so I would be bored but, at least, given he was away last week and we are both away this week, we would be together and maybe have a beer and pizza or something.
I wanted to go for a beer first but he was excited and wanted to go in and take our seats. OK, I get it. I would be the same for me with someone like Joan. We go in and sit down. I got the tickets late so we are near the back but, maybe, this will be better – at least for me.
The crowd is younger (not that young but younger than me) than I expected. Full of nerdy-type people who listen to music without vocals. Ah well, it will only be a couple of hours, I say to myself.
The lights dim and the crowd, whilst not exactly going wild, cheer and clap and are obviously keen to see ‘the man’. I clap politely, as one does. I am happy for F who is very excited about this.
The man comes on looking a little like a throw-back from the 60s. He plays his guitar(s). I try not to be bored. I try to listen. It’s OK, I suppose but I can’t help thinking that a bit of vocals never really hurt any song. The songs he plays go on a little long for me. About 3 minutes too long if I am honest.
And then…………
WARNING – if you intend to see him on his latest tour, I suggest you don’t read the rest of this as you will appreciate it so much more if it is a surprise. If you’re one of those people not going to see him or who are but always find your Christmas presents before Christmas………..then carry on
I was worried.
What if, when I saw him, I wouldn’t feel that ‘thing’? It hadn’t seemed so difficult and, in a weird way, I had actually enjoyed it. I went out with A a couple of times and had a few beers. Sure, I missed him but, you know, it’s life and we both have work to contend with and he loves his and so, if it means a week away, then so be it. I had time to watch some episodes of The Tudors, season 3, which I had bought ages ago and never even unwrapped. I had a glass or two of wine in the evening. Tried to groom Dino a bit. It wasn’t so bad at all.
Perhaps, I began to think, it would be easier like this? And, if I didn’t seem to miss him so much then perhaps I didn’t, after all? Perhaps I was trying to ‘hold on to it all’ just because the alternative for me is unthinkable?
I got to the airport and sat waiting at the exit. He had already come out and so, a few minutes later appeared behind me. I was disappointed that I hadn’t made it in time to see him come out and the ‘thing’ didn’t really come then because I didn’t see him from a distance.
We kissed on each cheek. We chatted as we walked to the car. When we got in we kissed. And there it was. The ‘Karl spark’ still there. As we drove back to the city we chatted more but I knew that I was really pleased to see him and not just to see anyone but him and him alone.
I dropped him off at home and drove the two minutes to park near mine. I tidied up a bit since he said he might come over – he missed the ‘babies’ (as he calls them – no, as we both do now). We agreed that I would take them for a walk and he would meet us outside. He wanted to see Dino go crazy.
We got out of the door. He wasn’t around. I hung on a little and lit a cigarette. The boys didn’t really understand why we weren’t going on with the walk. I saw him come round the corner. He motioned me to be quiet, not that he needed to do that. The dogs and I started slowly on. He caught us up and started walking with us. Dino looked at him a couple of times.
Then he suddenly realised who it was and went crazy with excitement. You have no idea how much it pleases me – both that Dino loves him but also that he loves Dino.
He had bought presents. A couple of Shaun the Sheep videos, some Royal Tea Bags (which are really funny), some Shaun the Sheep fridge magnets and some other stuff and Joan Armatrading’s new album.
I write this because I just started playing it. The title track being the first track and the one that reminds me of the older Joan stuff. Fabulous.
And I love the way that she still seems to ‘speak’ for me and tell of my current life (more or less). And the first one does. For, as I’ve said before, I’m a lucky guy. Many, many things just seems to work out. It is, indeed, a charmed life.
You know you came
Into the room alone
But when you left
Then I found that you took my heart
It sounds so corny yes I know it does
But truth is the shade
I choose to wear
I live and love with you
This charming life.
I do, indeed, live and love with you a charming life.
I don’t know if you’ve ever made Treacle Tart – mixing the Golden Syrup with the breadcrumbs and lemon zest – the ‘treacle’ being so thick it’s difficult to mix and you have to force the spoon through? Or maybe you’ve been wading through water with a strong current against you?
The phone saga continues. It seems as if there are about 6 different people dealing with it – and none of them talk to each other. Then there’s the bank. Well a branch of the bank that are unable to be part of the same group as another branch of the same group.
And then there’s this computer. Running so slow as to almost grind to a halt.
And it’s snowing.
And it’s very cold.
On the plus side I’ve watched three episodes of The Tudors (series 3). It is good but one would think that everything they did at that time revolved around sex – there being naked bodies in every other screenshot.
Last night I went out with A for a couple of beers at the Birrificio – Lambrate where, apparently, they brew their own beer. I had a couple of nice beers (Porpora) – what they call red beer (a darker bitter rather than the light lager-type that the continent is famous for). Quite strong but very drinkable. It’s one of those places where it is better to book a table in advance. We were lucky and found a table but it was the only table left that had not been booked. But it is a strange thing – to have to book a table at a pub, don’t you think?
F also texted me to say he had bought me a present. I’m not sure why or what it is. He said that he hoped I didn’t already have it.
And today is our mesaversary – well the mesaversary of the day we met (which, to be honest is almost the same as the day we became a couple :-D).
And, someone who is reading this blog thinks that my writing reflects the fact that I am, ahem, gay! Really, AnaP? Well, I suppose, to some extent it would but I’m not sure that it makes that much difference. Although I do note that the people who spend a lot of their time on FB (and, in particular FV) are women or gay. I wonder if anyone has ever done a survey on that? Not that that particular point has much to do with my style of writing here but I thought it was interesting to note is all.
Anyway, it feels like I’m swimming in glue right now.