Birthdays

The celebration of keeping death at bay for yet another year, yay!

Problem is that for one thing or another, I can probably think of 1 or 2 of the birthdays that I remember where something fucking shit happened to ruin it. For at least 6 of those years, this was purely down to the girl that I was going out with (and eventually got engaged to...but only because of her constant nagging, however I'll come back to that later...) being a bitch (I would go into more detail but don't think there's enough blog space in the world to talk about that, plus I've told so many people while pissed I'm sure that even Heat, Chat & OK would be bored of hearing it, also I'm not wasting any more time on her).

Birthdays themselves don't phase me, its what they represent for me, which is a reminder of how much time I've wasted, mostly through having my spirit crushed out of me by the aforementioned bitch. I also approach birthdays hoping that "this one will be different, today will be a wicked happy cool day where I feel special", and then, because disappointment hits me very hard (not to mention very frequently) and I'm expect it more than normal, I'm always on edge, waiting for something to fuck it up.

Going back to the point I mentioned earlier about the engagement... The fact that I was nagged into it, it wasn't something I wanted to do, off my own back, unprovoked, really should have been the sign that it was time to get out (though there was so many signs before that), but because I was comfortable (kind of) I stayed with her. The biggest mistake I've ever made...so far...

It wasn't until a certain young lady turned up one day and made me think that there was hope for me, that I grew some balls and a back bone. She knows who she is.

Everyone has a story to tell

I'm a 29 year young only child singleton, who didn't always get what he wanted, to which I'm very thankful to my parents. I'm no saint (if I was I'd have no stories or tell and would have just existed, rather than actually lived this life, which you only get to do once) but I've been good to my fellow monkeys - opened doors for people who never said thanks, shown respect to people who didn't deserve it, put other people and their happiness before my own, usually at my own disadvantage.

A very close friend of mine once explained that she hated being ignored because of a deep rooted set of events from her life which effected her deeply (which I won't go into here because that's personal to her, and not my story to tell). It was because of that, I worked out my own deep rooted problems...

I was raised by a loveless couple (loveless to each other but they loved me). When I needed help with my maths homework (maths still being a subject that I have great difficulty with) I would go to Dad, who would shout, throw his arms about and bang the table when I couldn't get my head around it, which was quite scary and upsetting for a youngster (I even recall one time where I was comforting my crying Mum in bed, with Dad at the foot of the bed, still shouting, still angry about their idiot son). If I had any projects in mind, like I wanted to build something that I'd seen in one of my many favourite TV shows, Mum would shake her head and say "It'll never work", which is quite disheartening for a kid, full of ideas and imagination. My mum left home (for reasons which were right for her, and that she didn't put into action until I was old enough to cope and understand) and set up home with another man, a good man. Giving her away at the wedding to someone who wasn't my Dad, and than seeing her so happy, dancing at the reception with other man and his large family (not fat large, large in numbers) was hurtful and I was glad to see her like I'd never seen her before. Of course this wasn't good for Dad, who still has no-one and I very much fear that he will pass away the way I fear the most, alone. A friend asked why I keep going back to the same seaside resort every year - the answer to that is becuase that particular resort is where, as a child I felt the happiest...it was the one place where my parents argued the least.

At school, I would always been left out of the really cool things that the group of mates (which when I look back now seems more like the bunch of people that I hung around that didn't tell me to just go away and kept me around for pity's sake). My childhood and teenage years where wasted because of lack of encouragement to stop watching the TV and get out there. The majority of my 20's was spent in a relationship where we were both together for comfort rather than love or desire. It is only now, when it's almost too late that I've fully developed as a person. So many missed opportunities, so many things I could have done, so many places I could have gone...

I love my parents, not just because they're my parents but because they are the only two people who will always be there...however, while I don't doubt Dad on that score, because at the moment he only has Gran and me, sometimes I have doubts about Mum, which are obviously irrational...but why is it that when I was I on anti-depressants and having serious down spells (which included thoughts of "ending the pain") did I not get her offering to come round at any time of the day to sit with me? Why did I never get hugs? Why did I have to cry to Dad that I couldn't even remember the last time she's said "I love you"? I know she does, but words have so much power when unprovoked...

Children more often than not favour the Mum because she was the one they most likely saw the most from birth. Although I would find it quite hurtful that a child of mine would always call out for their Mum rather than me, but it's a natural thing and not meant in a malicious way, I would just have to get over it. With Mum leaving and starting a new life, it's interesting that once upon a time, Mum was there for and Dad was someone I loved but scared of, but now the tables are turned slightly... It feels like Dad is now there for me, and Mum is...around...

As mentioned earlier, I spent most of my 20's in a relationship which should have ended long before it did, and for the last 3 or 4 years (I forget it's been that long), I've been alone. After a long shitty day at the office, to come home to someone who sees your pain and does whatever they can to make things right again, even if it's just to make you smile, or make you feel special again, would help make sense of this life. I have never had that. For a while, I thought it was going to happen for me, but as with all things, there was a catch. I fell in love like I'd never known with a woman who had mastered the 3 most important things to make me happy - she could make me laugh (proper laughing, not just a courtesy laugh), she made me feel loved and desired, and she understood me. I had found someone, I had finally found out what love was...but there was a catch...which meant "we" could never be. I just hope that she knows how much she means to me, even now.

Another friend organised a wonderful surprise birthday bash for her boyfriend; while I was happy to help in getting a couple of people who are always late to such events there on time, and help getting people ready for the moment they walked in (for which I don't think I ever got a thank you, but that's the past), at the back of my mind, I was jealous. I was jealous that such a thing had never been organised for me, and I'm sure never will.

A gay friend of mine, who I've known for years is now happily settled with a fantastic bloke; I really couldn't be more pleased for him, as he's deserved happiness for such a long time, but when I hear from him that he hadn't had sex in 2 weeks or seen his boyfriend in 4 days, I simply say with heavy sarcasm "Must be awful for you mate..." I say that for 2 reasons - I'm jealous of anyone who's in a relationship, and because in a subtle way, which I'm sure he doesn't pick up on, I'm actually saying "Oh, shut the fuck, and be thankful for what you've got! You have everything that I want, and you're moaning because of a little thing like that!", in the hope that he'll realise how lucky he is, and cheer him up. Even in my bitter jealousy, I'm still looking out for people...

I have some wonderful mates and when I break down there's someone there to hear me (usually), and while them saying "...don't suffer in silence, you should have called me" is great, it just isn't always the same as having that special someone there, waiting for you at home, to make you feel special again...just by being there.

So, my story is this - at this relatively late stage in my life, I'm now ready to start living but all my contemporaries are rarely out, at home, all loved up, happy and shagging each others brains out, while I'm on the outside of that happy world looking in, feeling left out... Alone. 

It's all well and good, mate's saying "stop looking, and she will find you...", the problem with that plan is, what if she doesn't?, which is a fear driven by the terrifying idea of dying alone. Nothing scares me more.

What would be the next chapter then? Do I become a careless twat who stops giving a shit about others and only pleases himself? While people who do that seem to get what they want out of life, it would surely mean losing my friends and myself. No thanks.

I know and appreciate that there are people a thousand times worse off than me, which is why I rarely open up and spill my guts out, so I decided to vent here...that's what blogging's all about right ;0)