On Being An Arse, And A Bastard.

Yet again my intentions have been sidelined by my wandering and distracted mind.  I was full of the intention to write my tuppence worth on the whole Julian Assange saga, but then my own woman-related problems derailed my train  of thought.  And so, before I write anything of any substance on anything of real interest, I need to try and exorcise the demons that plague me.  Some hope!

I currently find myself in a rather depressing unrequited love triangle.  While I am forlornly trying to come to terms with the fact that the object of my desire does not feel the same way about me, I am also the object of another’s desire.  I am in the curious position of being both heartbreaker and heartbreakee.  And it is not a position I would recommend to anyone.  It is thoroughly unpleasant all round, let me tell you.

I had lunch today with the source of my romantic crucifixion.   It was quite possibly the least pleasant time I have ever had in her company in all the years I have known her.  Bless her, she tried her best to make me feel better, even buying me painkillers for my toothache, but nothing can soothe the dull ache of her loss.  She told me once that when I meet someone else I will forget her.  Which only makes me think that is what she thinks will happen when she meets someone else – I shall be forgotten.  Obviously, this thought does not cheer me much.  I am left with the certain knowledge that she is the one that got away, and I will live the rest of my life knowing that.  Knowing also, that the cause of the problems between us were largely of my  making, doesn’t help me feel better either.   You know, I used to have a half decent opinion of myself before this, now I am left thinking I’m a complete arse.

And I must be a complete arse.  Women like that do not fall from trees.   When I think of the opportunities I had, all I can do is shake my head sadly and say “John, you are an arse.”

And then there is the desire projected at me, from another lass.  But I am in no position to return it, my mind being elsewhere, with someone else.  Which likely makes me a bit of a bastard to her.

So I am an arse and a bastard.  Quite possibly the saddest and most despondent arse and bastard this side of Christendom.

Somebody cheer me up….

Advertisements

Leave a comment

No comments yet.

Comments RSS TrackBack Identifier URI

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s