Soulmates Lost
Morning everyone. This is an unusual post today. It's only really unusual because I'm writing this post for me, rather than you. I want to keep a record of certain things in my life, so that I can look back, and go "Wow, what a loser." This is one of those events.
I'd better give a bit of background info first though. Rewind about fourteen years, when I was in school, at the end of my first year. I must have been approximately thirteen years old and I remember when a new girl joined my class. Back then I didn't have much interest in girls, I was a bit of a late starter, you see. However, to this day I still remember the first time I saw her. I mostly only remember, because my heart was trying to escape from my chest, straight through my ribcage. I didn't know who she was, but I knew her name (the teacher introduced her), and I knew that she was the beautiful thing I had ever seen, which for a 13 year old, disinterested in girls, this was quite a bold statement.
Her name was Marie Daley. I didn't say anything about my feelings, of course. I'm incredible at hiding how I truly feel. Instead, we sort of became friends. We would be lab partners in science, and I remember my timetable was filled with unimportant lessons that just got in the way of science. It was a reason for me to go to school, and I spent a large portion of my days waiting for science lesson, and the nervous excitement that I would always feel around her.
I thought I was in love with her. Everytime I'd see her, my heart would literally miss a beat. It sounds cliched, but this is exactly what would happen. My heart would skip a beat, and it would leave me feeling scared, nervous and excited all at the same time. I'd become fidgity and nervous, and say stupid things in the hopes that I would impress her. All this weird emotional stuff was spinning me out.
Needless to say, the feelings just didn't go away. Four sent anonymous Valentine's later, and I still felt the same. Once, but only once, I told her how I felt. The reception wasn't great. She told me that I had no chance, because I was 'too much of a clown'. At the time I kinda took comfort in this. I thought, "well, at least she didn't say no because 'you are an ugly freak' ". Unfortunately she might as well have, because I was slightly crushed, and didn't ask again, much to my regret.
I fancied her forever. I barely looked at another girl at school (not that I had my pickings, cos I didn't, but still, that's not the point) from the first year, right the way through to the fifth year. I wanted to take her to the Prom, but I was working up the courage to ask her, when I found out someone else had asked her, and she'd accepted. I was gutted, and I didn't go to the Prom. I only wanted to take her, and even if I hadn't, I probably wouldn't have been able to get a date anyway, so I didn't go. Sure I regret it, but what can you do?
I went back to the sixth form due to pressure from everyone I knew. I did very well in my exams, despite the fact that I didn't do a single bit of revision, to spite my foster parents. They made me stay in during the evenings to revise, but made me go out in the mornings. I told them that all my friends did the opposite, but nothing changed, and I was forced to stay in during the evenings.
So to spite them, because they made me stay in to revise, I didn't do a single bit. Not one iota. I think getting 7 Bs and 3 Cs isn't too bad considering I never even picked up a single textbook outside school during the final year, when most homework was revision. That'll teach my foster parents. :)
The sixth form was different. Something must've happened to Marie over the break after our GCSEs, because it seemed that when we returned, the majority of males felt the same way about Marie as I had for the past four years. She got her fair amount of attention, but I was ok, because coincidentally, we were doing almost the same A-levels, so I saw her a lot.
I'm fairly certain we used to sit next to each other in Sociology. Once I fell asleep, and was having a dream about battery hen farms, when Marie kicked me and woke me up. It was a bit late though, and when I woke, everybody was staring at me!
However, Marie was so popular now that for me to tell her how I felt was even more difficult. I felt(feel) insignificant. My attention isn't really worth anything, and I wasn't helped by the chronic nervousness that I felt. So I never said anything, and quit my A-levels because I had to move out of home. I didn't have to, but I was still living with Foster Parents, and nothing against those ones (I lived with about 7 or 8 different families over my childhood) at all, but I had to get out. Being the only child that doesn't truly belong amongst a family with 3 sons is tough, and doesn't make growing up easy. However, despite the fact that they were probably the best foster parents I'd had (social services had a habit of putting me in horrific places) it still wasn't a particularly happy time for me. So I quit my A-levels, got the first job I could, and moved out. It was shortly before my 17th birthday.
So I went my separate way. I still thought about Marie occasionally. After about 2 years I saw her in town, and almost choked as my heart leapt into my esophagus. Present day, and I've seen Marie probably only about 3 or 4 times since I was 16. Every time I feel the same, despite the amount of time that it's been since I'd seen her.
It's been quite a long time since I'd thought about Marie. It kinda pains me a little, because I do kinda feel like she was 'the one' and I missed it. I've been single for quite a while now, and I'm really not kidding when I say that I sort of feel like I have only been given one chance at finding my soulmate, and I've missed it, a long time ago.
You can probably guess what's bought this on - yep, I saw Marie again last night. I went to a house party, and got fairly wrecked. I was kinda spinning when we left, but we (me, Laura and Nate, plus this guy called Matt (but everyone called him chav) who was also tagging along. He looked a bit like Stifler if you ask me, but that's irrelevant. We decided that we needed food. I for one, was starving. Starving!!!! We arrived at Goodbody's, a mixture between a pub and a 24 hour greasy spoon. I paid my £7 for a mega breakfast, and sat and waited.
There was a hot girl with her shoes off at a table opposite me, but I didn't think anything of her, because I was starving, and pretty drunk still. Our food arrived, and just as it did, the hot shoeless girl was looking at me. I looked back. Then she mouthed the words at me, "Are you Ryan?". Considering I was drunk, I was highly impressed by my lip reading skills, cos she hadn't made a noise, and yet I caught every word. Strange. So anyway, I'm looking back at her, and I've got no idea who it is. It took me a good couple of minutes, but then it clicked - it was Marie.
Well, I'd been feeling spun out anyway, and although I was famished, my mega breakfast just wasn't going down well at all. I had to actually leave it, despite the fact I'd eaten one sausage and two forkfulls of beans. Devastated. But my heart was pounding. I don't really remember the conversation we had, but I'm fairly certain I made a twat out of myself. I had a chat with Marie for a while, and found out that she's married now with a 6 month baby girl. Stinger. Still, what was I expecting? She's always been stunning and nice to be around, I never thought she'd be single for long.
She asked if I was Married, and I laughed, and told her that I was a little unlucky. What I should have said was that it appears I am either socially inept, or that I have some sort of mutant growth coming out of me that everyone can see except for me. However, as much as I would like her sympathy, I'm not that weak. We talked for a while, and I realised that my insides were such a mess, there was no way I was gonna be able to eat any more of my breakfast. What a waste. And I was still starving!
So we decided to leave. Marie and the company she was with were leaving also. Now, my finest trick of ensure that I stay single forever is to pretend that I don't care. Oh, I'm so god-damn good at it too. When I like someone, I feel embarrassed. I've not had a huge amount of practice at displaying affection, because if truth be told I've never really had the chance. Living with people with no relation to you your whole life can leave you a little lacking in this area. For the same reason I don't understand family bonds. I just don't feel it. The majority of my family are just people, and if I never saw them again, I don't think it would bother me too much. I mean I haven't seen my Mum for at least 2 years, probably more like 3. It's not that I dislike her, I just find it difficult to feel anything about her.
Well anyway, enough of the psychology. The long and short of it is that the more I like someone, the more scared I am to tell them. I feel embarrassed by my emotions, and over the years have become very good at bottling them up. I'm not too bad in Private, but public displays of affection around 3rd parties are more difficult than naked table dancing for me. The problem is that I feel so weird about the whole thing, that if I really like someone, from a distance I'll be scared to even look at them or talk to them. Because of this, after Marie had left my table and gone back to hers, I couldn't meet her gaze. Although we all left at the same time, I walked past her as she was leaving with her friends, and I couldn't even look at her. I must have appeared so rude and arrogant, it really upsets me.
So there we go. I haven't been this candid on my blog for a long time. But I'm tired of being a fuckup. I'm really such a retard when it comes to affairs of the heart. However, I've come to the conclusion that I've met the one, and lost her. Actually, that's not strictly it. I feel that, but I also feel like it's my destiny not to have anyone. It was like when I was born, some higher power slapped my arse and said, "there shall be no love for this child, ever. Watch how we scupper his every chance"
I'm not really bitter. I've kinda come to accept it now, but I'm not very happy about it.
I'd better give a bit of background info first though. Rewind about fourteen years, when I was in school, at the end of my first year. I must have been approximately thirteen years old and I remember when a new girl joined my class. Back then I didn't have much interest in girls, I was a bit of a late starter, you see. However, to this day I still remember the first time I saw her. I mostly only remember, because my heart was trying to escape from my chest, straight through my ribcage. I didn't know who she was, but I knew her name (the teacher introduced her), and I knew that she was the beautiful thing I had ever seen, which for a 13 year old, disinterested in girls, this was quite a bold statement.
Her name was Marie Daley. I didn't say anything about my feelings, of course. I'm incredible at hiding how I truly feel. Instead, we sort of became friends. We would be lab partners in science, and I remember my timetable was filled with unimportant lessons that just got in the way of science. It was a reason for me to go to school, and I spent a large portion of my days waiting for science lesson, and the nervous excitement that I would always feel around her.
I thought I was in love with her. Everytime I'd see her, my heart would literally miss a beat. It sounds cliched, but this is exactly what would happen. My heart would skip a beat, and it would leave me feeling scared, nervous and excited all at the same time. I'd become fidgity and nervous, and say stupid things in the hopes that I would impress her. All this weird emotional stuff was spinning me out.
Needless to say, the feelings just didn't go away. Four sent anonymous Valentine's later, and I still felt the same. Once, but only once, I told her how I felt. The reception wasn't great. She told me that I had no chance, because I was 'too much of a clown'. At the time I kinda took comfort in this. I thought, "well, at least she didn't say no because 'you are an ugly freak' ". Unfortunately she might as well have, because I was slightly crushed, and didn't ask again, much to my regret.
I fancied her forever. I barely looked at another girl at school (not that I had my pickings, cos I didn't, but still, that's not the point) from the first year, right the way through to the fifth year. I wanted to take her to the Prom, but I was working up the courage to ask her, when I found out someone else had asked her, and she'd accepted. I was gutted, and I didn't go to the Prom. I only wanted to take her, and even if I hadn't, I probably wouldn't have been able to get a date anyway, so I didn't go. Sure I regret it, but what can you do?
I went back to the sixth form due to pressure from everyone I knew. I did very well in my exams, despite the fact that I didn't do a single bit of revision, to spite my foster parents. They made me stay in during the evenings to revise, but made me go out in the mornings. I told them that all my friends did the opposite, but nothing changed, and I was forced to stay in during the evenings.
So to spite them, because they made me stay in to revise, I didn't do a single bit. Not one iota. I think getting 7 Bs and 3 Cs isn't too bad considering I never even picked up a single textbook outside school during the final year, when most homework was revision. That'll teach my foster parents. :)
The sixth form was different. Something must've happened to Marie over the break after our GCSEs, because it seemed that when we returned, the majority of males felt the same way about Marie as I had for the past four years. She got her fair amount of attention, but I was ok, because coincidentally, we were doing almost the same A-levels, so I saw her a lot.
I'm fairly certain we used to sit next to each other in Sociology. Once I fell asleep, and was having a dream about battery hen farms, when Marie kicked me and woke me up. It was a bit late though, and when I woke, everybody was staring at me!
However, Marie was so popular now that for me to tell her how I felt was even more difficult. I felt(feel) insignificant. My attention isn't really worth anything, and I wasn't helped by the chronic nervousness that I felt. So I never said anything, and quit my A-levels because I had to move out of home. I didn't have to, but I was still living with Foster Parents, and nothing against those ones (I lived with about 7 or 8 different families over my childhood) at all, but I had to get out. Being the only child that doesn't truly belong amongst a family with 3 sons is tough, and doesn't make growing up easy. However, despite the fact that they were probably the best foster parents I'd had (social services had a habit of putting me in horrific places) it still wasn't a particularly happy time for me. So I quit my A-levels, got the first job I could, and moved out. It was shortly before my 17th birthday.
So I went my separate way. I still thought about Marie occasionally. After about 2 years I saw her in town, and almost choked as my heart leapt into my esophagus. Present day, and I've seen Marie probably only about 3 or 4 times since I was 16. Every time I feel the same, despite the amount of time that it's been since I'd seen her.
It's been quite a long time since I'd thought about Marie. It kinda pains me a little, because I do kinda feel like she was 'the one' and I missed it. I've been single for quite a while now, and I'm really not kidding when I say that I sort of feel like I have only been given one chance at finding my soulmate, and I've missed it, a long time ago.
You can probably guess what's bought this on - yep, I saw Marie again last night. I went to a house party, and got fairly wrecked. I was kinda spinning when we left, but we (me, Laura and Nate, plus this guy called Matt (but everyone called him chav) who was also tagging along. He looked a bit like Stifler if you ask me, but that's irrelevant. We decided that we needed food. I for one, was starving. Starving!!!! We arrived at Goodbody's, a mixture between a pub and a 24 hour greasy spoon. I paid my £7 for a mega breakfast, and sat and waited.
There was a hot girl with her shoes off at a table opposite me, but I didn't think anything of her, because I was starving, and pretty drunk still. Our food arrived, and just as it did, the hot shoeless girl was looking at me. I looked back. Then she mouthed the words at me, "Are you Ryan?". Considering I was drunk, I was highly impressed by my lip reading skills, cos she hadn't made a noise, and yet I caught every word. Strange. So anyway, I'm looking back at her, and I've got no idea who it is. It took me a good couple of minutes, but then it clicked - it was Marie.
Well, I'd been feeling spun out anyway, and although I was famished, my mega breakfast just wasn't going down well at all. I had to actually leave it, despite the fact I'd eaten one sausage and two forkfulls of beans. Devastated. But my heart was pounding. I don't really remember the conversation we had, but I'm fairly certain I made a twat out of myself. I had a chat with Marie for a while, and found out that she's married now with a 6 month baby girl. Stinger. Still, what was I expecting? She's always been stunning and nice to be around, I never thought she'd be single for long.
She asked if I was Married, and I laughed, and told her that I was a little unlucky. What I should have said was that it appears I am either socially inept, or that I have some sort of mutant growth coming out of me that everyone can see except for me. However, as much as I would like her sympathy, I'm not that weak. We talked for a while, and I realised that my insides were such a mess, there was no way I was gonna be able to eat any more of my breakfast. What a waste. And I was still starving!
So we decided to leave. Marie and the company she was with were leaving also. Now, my finest trick of ensure that I stay single forever is to pretend that I don't care. Oh, I'm so god-damn good at it too. When I like someone, I feel embarrassed. I've not had a huge amount of practice at displaying affection, because if truth be told I've never really had the chance. Living with people with no relation to you your whole life can leave you a little lacking in this area. For the same reason I don't understand family bonds. I just don't feel it. The majority of my family are just people, and if I never saw them again, I don't think it would bother me too much. I mean I haven't seen my Mum for at least 2 years, probably more like 3. It's not that I dislike her, I just find it difficult to feel anything about her.
Well anyway, enough of the psychology. The long and short of it is that the more I like someone, the more scared I am to tell them. I feel embarrassed by my emotions, and over the years have become very good at bottling them up. I'm not too bad in Private, but public displays of affection around 3rd parties are more difficult than naked table dancing for me. The problem is that I feel so weird about the whole thing, that if I really like someone, from a distance I'll be scared to even look at them or talk to them. Because of this, after Marie had left my table and gone back to hers, I couldn't meet her gaze. Although we all left at the same time, I walked past her as she was leaving with her friends, and I couldn't even look at her. I must have appeared so rude and arrogant, it really upsets me.
So there we go. I haven't been this candid on my blog for a long time. But I'm tired of being a fuckup. I'm really such a retard when it comes to affairs of the heart. However, I've come to the conclusion that I've met the one, and lost her. Actually, that's not strictly it. I feel that, but I also feel like it's my destiny not to have anyone. It was like when I was born, some higher power slapped my arse and said, "there shall be no love for this child, ever. Watch how we scupper his every chance"
I'm not really bitter. I've kinda come to accept it now, but I'm not very happy about it.
Ryaninja flipped out at 10:12 am
Throw me a Stabby Shuriken - 5 thrown so far!
5 Comments:
Okay, I have good news and bad news.
The good news is: "You're normal."
The bad news is: "There's no sense calling yourself names or putting yourself down for this anymore."
I'm a former foster child. Now, I'm married with two stepkids. Happy - happy - happy.
But... When I was growing up in foster group homes, my biggest fear was (gulp) vulnerability.
The first guy I ever liked, the one who made butterflies dance in my stomach when he looked into my eyes, asked me to go with him.
And I said... "NO." Why? Because I liked him too much. If I opened my heart more to him, he could hurt me. Got it?
I could tell you story after story of dodging the intimacy bullet -- but the truth is that you've got time on your side.
There is every chance in the world that you will be able to overcome your reservations and allow yourself to get to know and love somebody.
And, if you do, I can promise you this: It will be scary.
Scarier than a roller coaster ride. Scarier than an airplane hijacking (please forgive me for the comparison). Scarier than an armed bank robbery.
Because you will be opening up a part of yourself and that person could:
-reject you
-betray you
-hurt you
-die
-love you back
Letting that person in and allowing them to love you in return might be the biggest leap of faith that you ever make. It was for me.
But after seven year of marriage, I can honestly say that the risk was definitely worth it.
There is much to be said of the long wait for the right person. I spent most of my late teens and all of my twenties, dating girls, or doing a reasonable facsimile thereof. Was not until my late twenties that I finally met the right girl, and until early 30's until I got married. Now I am early 40's and am blessed with the incredibly right woman for me and two beatiful, handsome, awesome sons. Many of my friends who married early in life are divorced and unhappy. Do not know why it took so long, but the great things in life are worth waiting for. Hope this helps. Really sorry to hear about the breakfast going to waste. I almost teared up at that part.
Jeff. I know how you feel. The loss of my breakfast was indeed more sad than Lassie's brutal demise.
Unfortunately, it would appear you've already got one up over me, because there's no way I could truthfully say that I spent my late teens or most of my twenties (I'm 27, so I have had most of my twenties already) dating girls. In fact, I've been single for more of my twenties, and teenage years than not. It's not about finding the right girl amongst the many out there, because I don't really get any opportunity 'to look'.
Stick to posh wanks mate!
Well, I have nothing against them, but unfortunately, according to a study published in the Journal of Biological Psychology, when you orgasm with a partner, hormones partly responsible for the 'feel good factor' are released into the body at a level around 400 per cent higher than when you climax from 'solo activities'.
Dammit!
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