Search This Blog

Monday, 10 February 2014

Somebody to love

I'm late posting this, but I've been down. The kind of down that makes me want to lie in bed and do absolutely nothing. Not laundry, not maths, not reading, not anything other than obsessively going through all episodes of all three seasons of Project Runway Allstars (because going through all of the regular Project Runway would take too long). 

Saturday afternoon we went out with cousin S to celebrate aunt A's birthday. We had dinner and then went to the cinema to watch The Monuments Men. Dinner was uneventful. Did cousin S suggest other expenses I should consider? Did I say I was broke? Double yes. Did uncle A say a damned thing about it? No. In fact, aunt A offered to take me shopping for a birthday present on Sunday afternoon, which revealed 1) a reduced budget (at least compared to last year, not that I care because there was honestly nothing I wanted to buy in particular) and 2) I can't ask for money for my birthday and I'll end up having to break the piggy bank and crossing my fingers hoping there's enough money there to cover tuition and other expenses. 

The Monuments Men was awful. Just horrible. I'm not one for war films, to begin with. But I absolutely detested the idea of such a male-centred film where the actually-strong single female heroine is downplayed as the French fool who fell in love with the American man. Blech! Waste of time. More so when I realised, upon coming back to my room and my abandoned-all-afternoon mobile phone, SmTn had sent a couple of messages. They were about a half hour apart and were links to songs on YouTube. The first was Queen's "Somebody to love" in a video of a live performance. The second was Tori Amos' "Cornflake Girl."

Both messages arrived at a time I'll pin down at around "silly o'clock," his time. I'm almost positive they were nothing more than drunk texts. And I still freaked out. And it took me about an hour, maybe more, to make up my mind about responding three hours too late. I used the two songs I've had in my head for a while, "Eternal Flame" and "Open Arms." In reverse order, actually. Not that you'd care. I guess my choice of songs says quite a lot more than his does. You'll be surprised to read that "Cornflake Girl" is actually about the mutilation of women's genitalia. SmTn would be surprised too. I daresay he only used it as a way to say "I see you're not around. I'll be going to sleep now." And, look at that! I'm already figuring out what he meant and I'm having this conversation with him... via links to songs!

I wish we could talk and have proper conversations. The more we have these interactions, the more I feel we should have full-on conversations made of words, our words. And possibly feelings, I'll admit. Most likely feelings, even. The situation is complicated, though. Because of the part where he lives too far away with his girlfriend. *sigh* We've been over this. I'm not over this. I keep having these silly fantasies of him surprising me by just being here and I imagine a future where we could live together and be happy and I can't stop having them. 

You may be wondering why I'm so fixated on SmTn and the reason has a lot to do with the fact that nothing is going on in my love life. Unless you count the three men I danced with on Sunday night. One smelled like he hadn't showered in over a day. Another smelled like spicy farts covered in too much cologne trying to catch ze ladees. Another was a bit too eager to laugh at my jokes. Add that to the general feeling of being observed all too often, both in tango lessons (cue Sauron's voice "I see you!") and just walking around campus. I don't like the attention. I don't like being objectified like that. And it all only adds to thinking of SmTn again because he gets me and likes me and bears with me and jokes with me and can keep conversations with me even when we're not using words. Without staring at me, without objectifying me (even if he's sort of sexified me in some of his fantasies, there's plenty enough more to it that I don't feel that's the case). 

No comments:

Post a Comment