Crappy Land Lady ... and I still believe in Love.

It’s back to forgiveness isn’t it? What? That old biscuit? Yes, I’m afraid so. If it weren’t for forgiveness I could get in touch with my birth father and ask him to get some old acquaintances to rub out my land lady for being so ridiculous. Fortunately for her, I have no such inclination. She’s let me know that she thinks it is my fault that the toilet got blocked and that the shower plughole recently vomited up water, coffee grinds and leaves. She’s off on holiday soon and said that if anything went wrong with the plumbing again she would not be paying for it to get fixed. Well there’s the attitude. What a gem. I was incredibly angry but kept on trying to be logical about it “well, you know how a car sometimes needs maintenance, perhaps that’s what’s happened with the plumbing here?”

She laughed at me as if that weren’t even in the realms of possibility, though it’s fairly obvious to anyone that she must have had a cheapo job done and now the cracks are beginning to show.

“No,” she said “no problem last tenant. Now you here, toilet block, all toilet paper. Shower block. It hair. Plumber say you show no respec with messy. He say it not good, you no respec me. You say you keep place nice.”

Well yes, but it’s not my fault that your crappy plumbing is now busting a seam during the heavy rainfall.

Her shitty plumber, (probably paid in shoddy blowjobs) has come in to the flooded bathroom and judged my state of hygiene on that.  Sigh. Yes, the rest of the flat is cluttered, but not dirty.  The flooded bathroom was disgusting because that’s the only place I could put piles of wet, coffee grinds tainted towels and assorted items that had been ruined by the water rushing into the bedroom area the other night. Let’s face it; if you’ve got good plumbing then it’s unlikely that the grinds you put down the kitchen sink are going to appear up in the bathroom later in the week.

But no, it’s easier to blame my hair. I do have a lot of hair, but you know, I’ve been flatting for 20 years and I’ve never had a shower flood out like that before. I’ve also not ever had a toilet block like that either … and I was usually flatting with other people who also shat and shed hair on a regular basis.

Anyway, I’m over it.  In the end I said to her “I don’t think it’s going to be a problem anymore” and this placated her. I don’t know why. I’m not reliably psychic.  She smiled and said “oh good, let’s put it behind us” and I said “yes, I think it’s all going to be okay”.

I do like to ponder the spiritual significance of it all. Could the drains represent my inner workings? Should I get my own plumbing checked? Am I blocked in some way? A block that did come unstuck for me today was the Sexy Ex issue.

Sadly, our parting of ways was not done maturely on his part (and why would it be?). I tried to be grown up about his sudden vanishing, but for some reason the land lady being a dick really sharpened feelings of anger and frustration. I sent Andrew an email saying what I thought (there was no mincing of words), and I’m glad to say he’s explained why he had to cut off all contact (which did make me feel better but I'll keep it private).

He could have told me and still cut off contact and I would have accepted it. I know he’s not ‘the one’, but as I said to him, he’s still been ‘a one’ that I’ve learned a lot with. Still, perhaps there really was no other way.

If we keep being ‘friends’ then we keep sleeping together, there just doesn’t seem to be any way around it. The only way to stop is to stop seeing each other, and eventually, one of us will meet someone else. I have to say, it has been quite lovely to have had such a good level of lust with a boyfriend/lover. I am quite lucky really.

I also know I’m lucky that I’ve experienced true love a number of times. I’ve kept most of the love letters and poems boyfriends have given me, and I know that for a time, that love seemed like a forever kind of thing.

I still believe.

I've felt like I've really been part of someone and they've been part of me. I've had multiple orgasms that make my eyes roll back into my head. I've loved a man so much I thought he could kill me and I'd forgive him. Perhaps a killing and forgiving kind of love is tied in with fear and addiction instead of joy and freedom? I'm not sure how it all works, but one thing's for sure:

I still believe.