Hey bunnies!
How are you?
Did you turn up today or was it a lazy day at home?
Either way I hope you enjoyed yourselves.
I apologize for missing my last scheduled post. My mum returned unexpectedly from a long trip so I had to attend to her and when I finally found some time, my internet provider decided to take a leave.
Lately I’ve been thinking about music. Specifically the music of Lana Del Rey and how some of her songs are basically the theme songs of some of the relationships I had in my misguided youth.
Music gives flavour to my days and the flavour of Blue Jeans is as bittersweet as the relationship I had with – let’s call him – T.
I have something of an obsessive personality and I became obsessed with T from the moment he slapped my thigh while trying to kill a mosquito during fellowship.
Yes, you guessed it, he used to wear blue jeans and white shirts and he made my eyes burn with the energy he packed into his 5’7″ frame. T was always pontificating on some thing or the other and I would literally sit at his feet, totally enraptured.
It didn’t matter to me that he had a girlfriend, we were meant to be. I pushed and pushed until I settled for much less than I deserved and needed but yay! we were finally together, though not an item. There was the pesky detail of the girlfriend he never left.
Eventually, T moved to another state and I scraped together what was left of my self-respect and systematically drifted away from him. It helped that I realized he only ever called me when he’d been drinking.
After a long while, R came along. I finally got to have my Off To The Races romance.
My old man was not a bad man but he was a dark man and we loved every inch of our tar black souls.
Lol.
Much melodrama.
Many exaggeration.
First time we met, he called me his “new favourite toy”. I, of course, did not see this for the red flag that it was because the attention was so flattering, especially from someone I’d been admiring from a distance.
R is a fantastic writer and I find artistic types most fascinating. We had a few dates and eventually, where I had failed with T, I succeeded with R.
He left his girlfriend for me!
Hip hip hurrah!
We proceeded to have six months of one of the most intense relationships known to man. My obsessive side came out in full force. I could not bear to be apart from him. I was in school but, dear bunnies, what are classes in the face of love?
Then disaster struck and I had my first major manic episode. That was the beginning of the end for us. He admired the way I rolled like a rolling stone but this was an avalanche.
I’m not saying he didn’t do right by me because he did. In actuality, I broke up with him in the middle of my episode yet he looked for me when I went missing.
I simply had acquired a whole new dimension to my life that I had to learn to accommodate but he couldn’t afford to do the same. After several months of flogging the dying and then dead horse of our relationship, he took me out to see AntMan and broke up with me finally afterwards.
I cried for a week.
But I had an exam in two weeks and couldn’t afford to mess up so I went out that weekend (on my own for the first time in too long) and started the process of belonging to myself once more.
The search for affection has been my affliction but I am learning to take such affection as may be offered and provide the rest for myself, not go looking for it in all the wrong places.
Wherever T is, I wish him well. R and I are friends, though we don’t see each other often. I, of course, have my eye set on another (seemingly) unavailable man but it’s not a do-or-die thing.
No more obsessions for me.
I take my meds and don’t listen to Lana Del Rey quite so much.
Please feel free to leave a comment and share, share, share!
Until next time.
Peace and Cinnamon Swirls.