Rogue Seal vs Death

I don’t have alot of friends, I’ve never been that good at keeping hold of them, as I move through each stage of my life I struggle to bring relationships with me.  I’m too comfertalbe being on my own and being on the sides, not good a putting myself out there, happy to be forgotten, to be good at maintaining friendships.

When I moved to London I knew noone and it forced me to get over that comfertable independence.  No one was going to take me under their wing and guide me through this mass of people, I had to figure out how to be semi normal and quickly.  Part of that was entering the world of online dating, not only to find a boyfriend, but to meet people full stop.  It was way beyond me to meet friends in a bar, or however you’re supposed to do it, so dates was a way to get me out of the flat and start living.  And as a result the only friends I’ve made not through work or the flat are poeple I’ve met via online dates, as strange as that may be.

One of those friends messaged me this week that his mum was very close to death and only had a few days to live.  This is not a situation I’m socially equipped for.

I’ve met him a total of three times.  The first time on a date where I kissed him at the end of the night.  The second time on a date where he told me he didn’t want to date me but wanted to be friends.  The third time we went to an art gallery and had lunch.  So not a long history, but I still count him as a friend even as I remained perplexed as to what makes an adult who has lived in London his whole life decide he wants to be friends with the guy he had a date with and then actually follow through on it.  The act of bringing on adult friends is rare, it takes alot of energy to bring somone new into your life, if you have a circle of friends its big to meet somone and welcome them into your life.  I’ve never asked him what led him to this decsion, I think about it all the time, and appreciate it every time I do.

But now his mum is dieing.  This makes me unbarably sad.  I’m terrible in sad situations.  I feel that half the time I’m in a serious conversation I have a wierd smile on my face.  I’m obviously not happy but its just an instinctual response, my body just panics and decides the best course of action is to grin, and somtimes emit a laughing noise.  Its one of the many things that make me socially awkward.

The majority of my friendship with him has been farcicle joke based.  The main reason we met up was because when we were chatting online I got wierd, as i always do, and he decended to my level of weirdness without hesitation.  The conversations we have a sarcastic and ridiculous, dead pan and hilarious.  Most of the messages I send him are New Zealand news story related, serious issues like loose seals, a girl riding a cow like a horse, or Canadian cat smuglers.  You know normal everyday New Zealand news which is 90% animal based.

But now those messages are inapproriate.  I don’t know how to say comferting words, either in person or via messages.  I end up talking in gerneal platatudes, the same things that everyone says, thinking of you, call if you need anything etc.  This is because I know there is actually nothing I can do.  This sucks, its one of the worst moments in someones life and there is nothing at all i can do or say to stop it, to minimise it, to help it.  I, like everyone else in his life am powerless against the forces of time and nature, the words i’ve said to him will have been said by everyone else, people who know him so much better than i do.  My animal stories are powerful, but nowhere near powerful enough to defeat death.

I know that when it happens for me there isn’t anything I could be told to help and the reality is that this momment is quickly coming all the more closer as an event of trauma for me to survive.  The ineveitablity of the death of my own parents is the though that I can’t remove from my mind when I talk to him.

The fact that I live on the other side of the world makes it all the more painful.  If somthing happens I can’t get there quickly,  I cant rush accross town to be there in a moment, I have to fly.

For 24 hours.

One day I will get a phone call that one of them is gone, or that one of them has been given a terrible diagnosis.  And i will have to drop everything and go there and spend that entire flight regretting the fact that I wasn’t there for them more in their final years.

Its the one and only thing I dislike about living in london.  I know I have to be here because its better for me.  I’m happier, I’m more comferatable, I like the person London makes me and I don’t like myself in New Zealand.  But knowing I’m not there for the people who made me and who raised me, that made me the person that was able to come to London and be taken into its arms hurts.  Hurts a hell of a lot.

I don’t like that when I think of my friends pain I turn it into thinking about my own future pain, that I turn his current real hurt, into my imagained, but i can’t help it. I can’t begin to know the darkness he’s going through, and the only way I can process it is by thinking about the hurt that I know is coming.

So now I wait, he needs time, there is nothing I can do in these moments that others he know far better cannot.  But while I wait I check the New Zealand Herald for news.  Ridciuous news about sheep and whales and goats and just the general wierd and wonderful people that make New Zealand.  Becasue while the rest of the world is involved in grown up issues New Zealand is just there doing it own thing giving me links and articles to stockpile ready to dispatch at a moments notice when the time comes when he is in need of some nonsense.

Bewildered Observer

Dateing Ghosts

I’ve never had a proper boyfriend.  I’ve been on plenty of dates with great guys but never reached the stage of introducing them to other people, never joint skyping mum to introduce ‘Hans, my ballet dancing male lover’.  Things have never lasted long enough to warrant that.

There have been guys I’ve though could become that, guys you go on quite a few dates with, a month maybe more worth of dinners and drinks and making out.  But then they end.

The thing about all of those ‘could be something there’ dates is that none of them have ended with arguments, or farewells or anything like that.  Instead they just stop, one day your messaging and organising meet ups then they just end.  They become ghosts.

Ghosting happens to me all the time.  I don’t know if this is the same for everyone, or if I’m just exceptionally ghostable.  It’s probably just that no one likes to do the dumping, it’s so much easier to just never reply and hope they get the hint.  I’ve done it, I’ve had it done to me, sometimes i think we are both ghosting each other at the same time

But I’m going to try to stop ghosting people, i need to man up and just break their hearts.  This is because my most recent ghost kinda hurt.

In my first blog post I wrote:

“I’m currently trading messages with a guy that involve me buying Wales and setting up a dictatorship with a sheep based defense force.  Obviously.  I find it highly entertaining, he is much slower at responding and I’m pretty sure will ghost me soon.”

I met him twice, had a great time, he was funny and cute in a normal person way.  We talked and talked about complete an utter nonsense and kissed a little at the end of each date.

Then he went away for a month.

I decided to wait it out, he’s on holiday, he’s not going to be messaging everyday, that’s fine, I think he is worth waiting for.  We were even messaging a bit, he somehow lost a tooth, a showed him my amazing paperclip.  Then he never replied.

The message he never replied to wasn’t a question or anything, just a continuation of the banter we were trading.  The last thing he said was:

“It’s beautiful…you  you went to the serpentine gallery without me?!?”

He was talking about the paper clip obviously.  I responded, he never did.  Maybe I had broken his serpentine gallery loving heart by going, but it’s not as if we had made a plan to go together, i don’t even remember what we said about it.  And he was away for a month.

A week went by and I messaged again, just to make sure

“Holler.  What part of the great sojourn from London are we currently on? I feel it’s Barcelona.  the c is pronounced th FYI.”

No response.  For a while I really, really wanted to message once more, maybe he never got the message, maybe he didn’t press send properly, or maybe i could at least find out why.  But as I keep seeing on people’s Grindr profiles. “no reply is a reply”.  if he was interested he would have messaged, he would be checking to see if i had replied.  He obviously wasn’t.  He was also definitely back in london as my stalking of his Instagram could attest.

I was a little heart-broken, i actually really like him and I’m still not quite sure what went wrong.  But that is online dating, you move on, update your picture and try to find the next one.

So swell and nifty Grindr guy, who wasn’t even from Grindr, but a completely different dating site farewell.  May you rest in peace and find future happiness in the world of dating.  You have gifted me with the lesson of why I shouldn’t ghost, lets see if i have the balls to live by it.  I probably don’t.

BTW your shoes were ugly.

Bewildered Observer