I’m on site at one of the biggest events I have produced. It’s a mixture of the peak and the pit of my experiential and events life. I’m running on no sleep, sugar, coffee and adrenaline. My phone beeps. It would’ve been more appropriate if I had it set to Toot Toot rather than its usual ding ding.
It’s been months since we have spoken – his current girlfriend won’t allow him anything to do with me, despite the rather large water mass of the Tasman Sea and our choppy past between us. Seeing the Train Drivers name pop up on my phone throws me slightly. I put my phone away without even looking at it – it is one of the biggest nights of my career and we all know the effect the Train Driver can have on me. I can’t be thrown off my a-game.
I get home after a 19 hour day, hop in to a hot bath and open my message. It’s just general chit-chat, asking what’s new. I breathe a sigh of relief, but in typical girl fashion – I wonder ‘why now?’. Has he heard of my impending move to London? Has he heard Trouble and I have broken up?
We begin chatting over the next few weeks and I eventually tell him that I am moving to London – and no, Trouble isn’t joining me. He asks if I’m ok – it feels weird to be talking about a recent break up with the man who shattered my un-scared, virgin like heart. But because it’s him, something about it is comforting. He’s like an old, out of fashion jersey you throw on, on a cold, dark winter night – you know it’s no longer a good look but it feels good anyway. A guilty pleasure.
I take a deep breath and decide to mention how surprised I am to hear from him knowing that his current girlfriend has forbidden contact between us. He explains he isn’t sure about how he feels about her, about them. Interesting, as soon as things aren’t feeling right with the current girl in his life he contacts me.
I get the feeling (again & still) that I’m as comforting to him as he is to me. The difference being – his jersey never went out of style, therefore has never humiliated him regardless of how many seasons old it is. His jumper has never been a bad look, it never did him wrong – it simply is a nice, comforting jersey. Mine on the other hand may have always been comfortable, but now it’s slightly scratchy – and it’s covered in holes from being put at the back of the moth ridden wardrobe over the summer months, making it less and less comfortable each time it’s brought out.
A few days go by and we aren’t in contact. I’m guessing the embargo the girlfriend has placed on our iPhone based, historical friendship is back to being enforced. Good, this is better, I don’t want the health of my long distance plagued heart to be a cycle of out with Trouble and in with the Train Driver. That cycle is dangerous, similar to that of a virus – not even antibiotics will kill it off. We all know how to heal a virus – time and rest. Two things the immunity of my heart desperately and urgently needs.
Surprise surprise – we haven’t even made it a month of no contact and – Toot Toot – the train driver is back on platform contact.
Train Driver – “We’ve broken up – and the conversation was about you – awkward”
bambi – “Sorry to hear that. Not sure how it could have anything to do with me though. I hope you’re ok – here if you need or want to talk.”
Train Driver – “She said I was a closed book and she was stick and tired of trying to open it to no success. She asked if anyone at all knew me, or if I am closed to everyone. I told her there’s only one person in the world who really, truly knows me. We said your name at the same time. Needless to say, that was the end of that relationship.”
Waves of a multitude of emotions crash over me; confusion, sadness, happiness, anger, frustration, pride and love. God this guy has a way of messing with my head and pulling on my heart-strings.
We continue talking most days for the next few months, we snap chat, he tags me in things on Facebook, we’re constantly messaging – we’re getting along great, as usual. There has never been a problem in that sense between us, the problem has been in his indecision and immaturity coupled with distance. They (/he) have frayed our once connected heart-strings, until they finally snapped – or so I thought. Are these just emotions purely derived from the act of reminiscing – or are they still present? Perhaps feelings will always be there when it comes to him, a natural by-product of your first true love I suppose. I know that whatever it is I’m feeling isn’t something I would ever act on anymore, or wish to be acted upon. Just a resurfacing of the past in the present. Confusing.
He says he wants to return home in December over Christmas time and that it would be really good to see me before I head off. ‘I’d love that’ – I instantly reply. Despite everything, I do want to see him before I go, the last time I saw him was that awful weekend at the wedding. In saying that, I am slightly concerned as I know that Trouble is also coming home at Christmas time and wants to see me before I leave….my life seems to be a drought of physically present men, but when it rains it certainly seems to pour. I quickly realise however that without a doubt, I would see Trouble over the Train Driver if I had to choose just one. Interesting huh?
Three weeks out from his arrival, the old Toot Toot sounds, notifying me that the Train Driver is bringing a girl home for Christmas – and his rebuttal to my positive, supportive, happy response??
“Well I assume Trouble will be home for Christmas anyway”.
An odd way to last message the Train Driver. Not in our wildest moments did I ever picture our 13 odd year relationship begin to end this way. We sure can be the greatest, but we can we can also be the worst of all.
distanced hearts club ♥