2nd April 200613:09 Apr 03 2006
Times Read: 1,021
It’s early morning as I begin this and my heads going whirligig like a roundabout is locked within my skull.
And I don’t know which to talk of first, so I’ll tell you the pain, on or in, my head first and then perhaps I’ll have found a way to explain the confusion, or annoyance? We’ll see!?!
I have a sore spot about an inch and a half in diameter between my left temple and eyebrow, just about the midpoint.
I woke up at about 5:25 a.m. Saturday, dressed and beneath the duvet.
I’d drunk too much the previous night, after going out with ‘some of the lads’ from work.
And when I’d woken, my head hurt, where I’ve described, as if I’d been hit; or fallen against something, like a wall, perhaps.
Anyway, after telling Cecilia, my Columbian friend, about this, she had obsessed about it and questioned and… and no matter how many times I’d said “I don’t know remember” literally –
She’d carried on; and on; and on, with yet further enquires, as to how I’d done it: as if I could remember. I hadn’t. I don’t. I’ve tried. I can’t.
In fact, I have no memory, whatsoever, as to how I’d got from Liverpool to Birkenhead that night.
But, I had.
But, still she’d kept on: and I do recall that at one point when I got passionate about something, she’d called me an ‘aggressive male.’ But, I digress.
The idea had been the pictures and a meal.
But,,, she’d been at a friends and the library, so I hadn’t been able to contact her in the morning, as arranged. So, I’d left a message on her mobile, when it’d been switched on, saying I’d stay in till 1:30, as it was a sunny day I’d go out after that. She rang at 1:14, okay… before 1:15
And, I am angry as I write… Cecilia had treated me as if I were ‘all men,’ as in ‘all men our bastards:’ and although it was most apparent toward the end of the night, it had been an attitude that had persisted throughout.
I know for years I’d thought ‘all women are the same’ as in Debbie and Tina, my cheating ex fiancée’s, so I’d grown the emotional shell.
But, that was then… and should stay where it is… the past.
But, once again, I’m getting ahead of myself.
We met, in Birkenhead. I’d waited awhile as she’d missed her bus; so, I’d waited.
I’d sat in Hamilton Square and in that daylight before dusk, avoided watching a couple argue loudly, by watching the birdlife.
I saw female Thrush feeding: and later, a male on a branch, chest puffed out, on display for a potential mate.
We met, in Birkenhead and nowhere I chose was good enough. So I’d said, “you choose.”
Her choice was Liverpool.
Well, once outside the station we’d walked awhile, looking for a suitable eatery.
Being Saturday there were a lot of people out and about.
Hen some young pretty-pretties had walked past, she pointed out ‘long attractive legs,’ as she’d called them. I’d chosen not to look though.
She did it several times, each time a blonde; showing lots of flesh.
I’d not turned my head at any; but, had said: “why should I look at someone else when I’m her with you?”
And, we had finally found somewhere to eat.
The food had been good; and the service impeccable; but the questions interminable.
It’d been like she’d been using stuff I’d said in the past and was using it against me: and recalling the worst.
She’d even chosen to talk of Friday night, when I’d told her of my lack of memory.
Nor had I wanted to talk of it too much as the events were a tad painful to recall; both literally and figuratively. I just shouldn’t have drunk so much, so fast, on an empty stomach.
I had though ~ and paid for it.
And, she had wanted to know the price of the meal. It’d been moderately expensive.
But, why was that important?
I’d thought it worth what I’d paid with lots of new tastes to try: and surely that’s enough!?!
Cecilia had checked her watch in the restaurant, then again on the street.
“It’s cold. Let’s go to a pub, so we can talk.”
I took us to The Dispensary, where I’ve not been.
We got in, through a thronging crowd: “It’s too noisy,” said she.
We got out, through a thronging crowd.
And, I recall, she’d chosen a compromise, between where we both live, The Rock Station, across from Rock Ferry Station.
Again there were the questions, all anti-man; and. Little by little, I’d realized that.
Finally I’d said, “I used to think to think all women are the same.”
” I don’t now,” I’d added, thinking of one or two close friends.
As I’d said earlier, I’d been thinking of Debbie and Tina when I used to think like that.
But, I meander… And, as it is, I know they’re not… but, Cecilia… “All men aren’t the same either,” I’d told her.
And, she’d gone quiet.
It was apparent that she still thinks ‘all men are bastards’ ~ very apparent.
And, she’d left me, in the pub, after checking her watch again.
Thank you for the invitation.
Good luck. Take care Bye.
Sent by Ceci;lia Martinez 1 April 2006
22:40:47 (according to the text summary.)
‘deleted’, about 23:55
I think I was an experiment, after two failed relationships of her own. I was an experiment.
Lover. Then friend, then… and, all in a short time.
And, excluding the lump: my head hurts.
Hours have passed since I last wrote and I did sleep awhile. Oh-boy did I find writing it out cathartic.
Anyway, between showers, I have cleaned paintwork, washed windows and hoed borders. I feel more refreshed and my head heard a little less, although its obvious I did hurt myself somehow. Or, someone hurt me. And, I still have no memory of the journey from Liverpool to Birkenhead on Friday night. Either way, I guess it could have been worse.
And yes, I’m annoyed at myself. But, I’m not going to go there… As if I do, I’d try and analyze the event and how can I as I can’t recall it. I just have to be more careful.
Yet after yesterday’s events with Cecilia, I’m not depressed, as I would have been in the past.
Oh I’m disappointed. But, manias taken over and recalling the date ~ I’m putting it all down to a bad joke at my expense, literally. At least the meal itself had been enjoyable!
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