A strange week and one of clarity. The teenager sat through many interviews at Bristol Grammar in the hope of gaining a place. I hope he does, almost more than I have ever hoped for anything. With 4 hours to kill I mooched around Clifton. Bristol's Habitat is one of my secret bargain bins, always offering huge discounts, always hard to resist. It is much easier when you have no money but it also made me ponder the reality of loneliness.
The realisation dawned that in a relationship you can ring you partner and share your excitement at the 75% discount on the lights that will transform your life. Underneath, you know that you are deluding yourself to their interest - which in no doubt hovering near zero, but humouring works for most of us for a while. The reality of being single is accepting that they were never interested and now you have no one to phone.
Being lonely with someone is the worst kind of loneliness but the reality of truly being on your own is just that, the reality. I am sure that it must take a period to get used to.
It and I had a rather long heated debated this week. It transpires that the greater part of our marriage 'it' has been harbouring an ever growing dislike. Clearly, I would never have carried on breeding to the extent that I had should I have known the his true feelings, so the strength of them came as quite a shock. Whilst I am sad that he had disliked so much for so many years, clarity gives you the opportunity to accept the past and move forward. Picking away at where things went wrong - even if it appears to be the alter, gains nothing and persuading someone who thinks otherwise that you are really not that bad would be a fruitless task.
The thing about peoples feelings is that they are real to them, but I am now being to wonder about the advisability of our obsession with social niceness. Why do we pretend to like people when we really don't? Yes, life would be harsher if people were more honest but at least we would all know where we stand. I am not suggesting we all go around declaring our hatred for our neighbour but perhaps if we didn't keep up the pretence, then we would all have a little more clarity and there would be less of the likes of the Jeremy Kyle show, a lot less children and a lot less gossip.
With this weeks revelations I am thinking of calling Jeremy. Whilst I really am grateful to 'It' for his honesty because it really has negated any need for further soul destroying analysis for both of us - I did take objection to his declaration that I am not funny. I think I am a hoot. I was going to suggest that perhaps his humour is not sufficiently developed to appreciate it but it seemed like a bad time.
It is this truth that we are unwilling to share that causes life's problems. Someone in the village told me to check out a dating website. "Don't you think it is a little premature?" I said, She looked at me like I was going mad "Not for you to date" she said "To cheer you up, there are loads of people you will recognise and it is hysterical." It felt a little cruel looking but in fact it was quite addictive. I did discover someone that despite being a car dealer teetering towards mid 50, on this website he was a 42 year old entrepreneur. Should I ever consider online dating I guess I would be a 29 year old events manager. Someone is going to be hideously disappointed.
Even more worrying was the not unattractive man in Chippenham. 'I have had loads of people click on my profile, yet no one has emailed me' he declared. Looking at his profile picture, I was equally perplexed. Until I scrolled down his interests - cycling, squash and kinky sex. I was going to email him and suggest that the kinky sex may have put the majority off but worried at instigating an email relationship with a local pervert, I decided not to.
Instead, I shall embrace my new status of borne again spinster, something I appear to being doing quite well at. Calling in for a drink last night, a friend looked me up and down and said "What the hell are you wearing?" I tried to explain about my dog walking outfit (admittedly I had kept it on all day), but butted in with "You look so dreadful that I actually cannot bear to look at you."
Honesty, how very refreshing.