It’s been just over a year since I started writing almost daily. And I had wanted to write a bit about that, but then I noticed the time.

I guess everything is still a bit rushed. It’s 10 past 9 and with the best will in the world, I won’t be finished writing here until on the 10 side of the hour. It’s also a long-run day, so I don’t see myself (assuming I leave straight after writing, dress, pack up stuff and go) being back much before 11. But the boys are going to cinema for 11. Wait! Maybe it’s 11:30. Let me check.

11:30! All is well.

I guess I could have just checked all of that rather than wittering on here about it. Thirty minutes is making all the difference to my morning, though. Well now, I’ve no reason to get into the logistics of the whole thing now that it’s sorted. It will still be tight and no time for faffing about, but at least it’s possible.

Amongst other alerts and notifications that caught my distractible attention as I started my writing process today was an alert about an ex-boyfriend’s birthday. I have residual guilt about that one because I’d sort of implicitly promised we’d stay in touch when I went to Japan, and be at least friends when I returned, and I knew at the time that I’d no intention of doing any such thing. But I’d a really hard time turning off my people-pleasing switch around that time. I couldn’t face disappointing anymore people on the heels of a year where I’d called off a marriage, left a job and had two suicide attempts. So it felt “safe” to leave that fantasy behind me. I’ve just always felt a bit icky about it.

It’s a recurring icky feeling whenever I see the guy’s name come up in notifications on Facebook or calendar reminders like happened this morning. Though, from a purely analytical point of view I feel like I’ve been historically crueler to other people. But most of the time that wasn’t on purpose. I’ve unwittingly let emotions of others grow for me, but I was too young an immature to know how to handle it properly. I’ve cheated on people I’ve been in relationships and that’s got to be worse, right? Isn’t that the ultimate betrayal of our monogamous system of relationships?

I don’t feel so bad about that though? I mean, it’s not like I don’t know cheating is wrong – there’s nothing grey about that, it breaks the very clearly established agreements that society sets out for relationships.

I don’t know why I don’t feel super guilty about that stuff. Maybe because it was either known about pretty much straight away (and thus got resolved) or it will never be known about, and so it’s neatly packed away and doesn’t hover around like a pollution cloud of broken promises. Like, I’m never going to track down someone I dated for 6 months 15 years ago and have that conversation: “You made me feel so shit sometimes, and I made me feel so shit sometimes, that there were a few occasions that I sought the refuge of drunken sexual attention with other people. But hey, we never confirmed we were exclusive, right?!”

Heh, I guess that one is a case where I’ve some anger issues still floating around about the whole relationship. To be honest, if I made my list of romantic relationships and analysed each and every one of them, there’s stuff left to be said. But there’s mostly two situations going on: either I’m friends with them now, or I’m not.

For friends, I suppose we could have some deep and meaningfuls about what went on all those years ago – the answer will be simple: I was young and fucked up and didn’t always know how not to behave like an asshole.

For not-friends, there doesn’t seem like much point. Unless it’s still hurting me. I get flashes of wanting petty revenge from time to time. It wouldn’t make anything better.

Oh, but there is the grey of acquaintances. Like this person whose birthday notification popped up this morning. We don’t really interact enough to call one another friends. As I grow older I feel more aware that I’ve got not a whole lot in common with him, so I’m unlikely to seek out a deeper relationship ever.

So it doesn’t matter. I suppose it’s all mattered enough for me to babble all over the screen here this morning. Nostalgia isn’t what it used to be and all that.

And there is that black future-cloud that hangs over something I should do regarding work which requires contact with Mr-Japan-X. It’s still not at the top of my priority list though, so I guess I’ll be ignoring it for now.

 

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