Wylie, The Painter, Depression and good things! Edited.

Wylie, The Painter, Depression, and good things!

Wylie rang me today, really wants to see me before Christmas. Yeah, see is right.

What's good is that I can say anything I like to him, there's nothing to lose. He wants to see me, but it's just a sex thing. Sort of tempting in a limited way. It was pretty intense and passionate when we had our 'resolution' last time. Fortunately I am no longer in love with him. There's only so much shit one can process really.

He cracked me up. I told him I was fighting depression right now and after listening to me waffle on for awhile he concluded that I needed to find a 'normal but probably boring' man, and settle down. Sounds grand doesn't it?

I've had a strange day. Had a catch up with D last night (who I can now give a nick name since he no longer reads my blog). What shall we call him? I think The Painter will do. The Painter, you will recall, was the one who seemed really into me for two weeks and then announced he was off to meet someone else for coffee (oh the lack of manners!).

This is where I describe how horrible that was, but I am now editing it and removing it because let's face it, life is too short. I can say this though:

We had a coffee (got my water bottle back too, yay) and it was a very civilised meeting. He was depressed too (but I'm better at smiling through it) and continuing to see the girl he'd met the day he'd introduced me to his mum. He didn't sound thrilled with her. "Not sure about her" he said. But he's not sure of anything, lest of all himself.

He just slid smoothly out of one woman and into the next without a backward glance. Maybe it will work, though he doesn't sound thrilled or look happy at all. I concluded that it's himself he can't be with, it's nothing to do with the woman. I originally gave them three more weeks, but hey, who knows.

Anyone who spends any time in contemplation has surely felt the fear, but if they are honest about their feelings then surely they mature and are able to get beyond being excessively narcissistic. I'm hoping to, ha ha!

I acknowledged all he really did wrong was be tactless and then didn't bother to actually communicate properly with me. He recognised that he did sabotage it because it was so intense and he freaked when I (the gall of me) laid down my boundaries.

Obviously Miss Monday has worked out well for him in some way, but really, if you are able to so easily slide from one person to the next, then your honour and sincerity is surely in question. Sigh. Goodness me, I sound like someone from another era. Damnit, all my morality has tripped me up again. I'm so conservative, it's embarrassing.

Lisa thinks I'm hilarious, she has no illusions about the honour of men. She voted for National so we can't entirely trust her judgement, but I love her anyway.

So I went for a walk today, cast my vote (Labour and Greens thanks very much), went to the library, walked home a bit glum bum, had an amazing nap, and then read in the bath. Lovely.

Tonight I'm going to The Checks with Bob, Claire and Donna's friend. Yay, it's so good to have a gig buddy!! I've sometimes just go to things on my own, but wouldn't be up to that right now. I am really enjoying being with people more than ever before.

I suppose I should try and tidy my room a bit. Clear my mind and all that crap.

Oh, The Painter asked how my Forgiveness was going. I said that it really needs to just be part of every day. He didn't look convinced. He didn't actually apologise to me for being such a fucking dick, but hey, here we go, I forgive him anyway.

Afterthought: he wasn't really a fucking dick, just a fearful one. And so his fear is my mirror. What am I afraid of?

What is anyone really afraid of? Depth of feeling. Of being lost. Of being seen. Of being found.