Keeping the Memories Alive aka Romantic Rumination

I'm trying to keep alive the memories, sensations, words and pictures from 2.30am-ish Friday night. The boy-man genius and being fed a bite of a musk stick, discussion about walking as a pleasure pursuit, my haircut, his haircut, his conflict issues, my cheeky swap of a kahlua with a fuller glass and his giggles, his warm almost-English voice describing his love of email but distaste for sms messages, his voluntary farm work in Hungary, his sickness in France.

What did I say? What did he ask about me? He asked if I liked walking. I do.

The hour such interaction took place is not known for rendering accurate memories. I'm second guessing my warm fuzzy preoccupation with him. Not him as a charming boy-genius but rather me as an astute reader of vibes.

There are things I can't remember; whether he was moving back to Melbourne in one week or two, whether I rightly perceived he was single, whether he was interested in me or whether I maybe did the labour of stoking both our fires. Bad metaphor considering the ongoing bushfire tragedies in Victoria. Inappropriateness aside, I just feel I have a slightly swollen heart. I'm thinking about him, but not all the time. I'm hoping to hear from him but not desperate.

Tonight as I rode my bike home (wonderful device for making my brain work at its best) I had two conclusive thoughts about my long-gone relationship with the EX. I thought that what still upsets me is one of two things:

1. He didn't love me as much as I believed for those 8 years. I never felt anything but a soulmate to him. He was the most loving, caring, doting, affectionate, thoughtful man... that I find it hard to believe I was led astray or in a relationship with a blindfold on... and if that wasn't the case, if he did indeed love me and was as committed as I thought, then...

2.Why did he not try to save it? Why did he give up so abruptly? Why can he so quickly move onto another relationship? I acknowledge we had the heaviest of emotional problems to deal with and that arguably needed to happen separately, but why walk away from something that had your whole heart in it for 8 years?

Minutes after I pondered this whilst riding through the park, I sighted his van in my neighbourhood. Hey!! That's not allowed. You've had your girlfriend move in with you and now have no excuse for loitering in my neck of the woods.

There's perhaps an option three...

3.It wasn't perfect. We were cross-eyed lovers rather than star-crossed. I won't have any true perspective til I'm in a new relationship. I may not have any real perspective til my hypothetical new relationship passes the 8 year mark.


Received a back-handed invitation from the VTL and the OB hasn't resurfaced since his 10-day delayed pathetic sms. This is all useful, it's all data and benchmarks in the evolving dossier of my standards.

I've chosen the nostalgic, sad but somehow uplifting and comforting Seachange by Beck to accompany me during installment one of my washing up. I really, really would like and think my life would be improved by having one of those mini drawer style dishwashers. This is in the wishlist dossier. Beck's Seachange is so much more than my break-up summarised and encapsulated in a record. It goes on and reveals it's auditory wonderment to me over and over again. I can't recommend it to you (or myself) highly enough.

Today at the traffic lights (on my bike) I noticed some of the thick white road markings were all bendy. Like some funster had crept in after they were painted (years ago) and pushed the lines around to make a wavy non-straight line. Or is it the bitumen underneath the white paint that is pushing and pulling away from itself?

Blogging is my just desserts. So therapeutic. Beats the hell out of washing up. But will I one day regret the trivialities of my heart and words and time spent on the boy-genius and other follies? Interesting to note the boy-genius hasn't been turned into an acronym yet; it must be serious.