Tuesday, June 19, 2007

Odds

I miss leaves on the pavement, the smell of wet earth, bonhomie.

I love the sound of kookaburras in the trees behind me, the smell of a warm eucalypt forest, Cylinder Beach.

I don't have anything to look forward to. I think that is why I have been so sad. I am not built to be contented; I am built to desire, require, need change. This life is so static, so still. To love it you would need to love small moments of dynamism. I am not subtle enough for that. And there is too little to savour. I miss pastries, cannot afford good wine, have no joy in conversation. But I smile when I talk to you, and I hate myself when I am not courteous. You would not know that I'm not loving it. I am not a drag to know.

But no one wants to know me.

***

It hurt me a lot when S ditched me. I haven't got over it as well as I might have. I think that's because she casually dumped me when she stopped being able to use me but she gave no credit for what I had given her.

I cannot surrender my sense of justice, my deep need for fairness. I do not think life has been fair to me, but as time goes by, I doubt that I have given enough to deserve a return.

But beyond that, I was disappointed because I had so misjudged her, and I'm generally a good judge of character. I am struggling to reconcile my high opinion of her with the truth that she is just shit.

I am sorry that I am still thinking about it. I said I wouldn't, but I have found it harder than I thought I would. I felt I was worth more. I am very low on confidence at the moment, unable even to email the English people I met at the Meetup because I fear they will not want to talk to me. I know it's not rational; spare me the comments on how you won't know unless you try, blah blah. I could email myself the same fucking comments. I know but knowing doesn't help at all.

On the other hand, it would not be fixed by her writing to me and saying hello. Just another thing that can't be resolved.

***

I have no work at the moment but I have another project coming up, and I've already earned enough this month. I am proud of myself that even though I hate it, I can be relied on by my family. I am not all bad. I do think sometimes about how my children will think of me when they are older. I do not have a preferred picture for myself; I'm just trying to get through it without smashing them the way kids get smashed. There are plenty of bad things they could remember -- I'm a long way from the man I could be -- but there is good too. They cannot doubt that I love them, and I think that is worth most.

I worry because I know how easy it is to judge someone by the bad and just forget the good. I try to teach Zenella to judge people in the round, rather than get upset about the negative, but who knows what makes an impact and what doesn't? Sometimes I fight with Mrs Zen and I so want them to see us laughing, not fighting. To sum up what I want for my kids, I would need only one word: warmth. I want them to feel warmed by me, by the world I make for them. How I fear I am not succeeding! But do I fix it? I try. Do you give yourself credit for trying or punish yourself for failing? It depends how happy you are with yourself, I suppose.

***

I miss kissing. I wish I had someone to kiss. I kiss Naughtyman and he giggles. He giggles and I am thinking, I have to kiss you as much as I can now, because the day will come when you don't want it. I wonder whether that isn't, when it comes to it, the curse of age: you have learned to see the souring of every good thing before it happens. He is a beautiful boy, gentle and sensitive. So am I, really, so am I.

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