Warning: I did say there was whole other post to come regarding the update on Trouble…
Trouble and I are back in normal-ish contact. Following our heart wrenching messages on each others birthdays about how much we mean to each other the ice has been broken, the dust swept under the rug. Sort of, in some way. I’m trying to do that clean slate thing.
After a connection test I experiemented with a night or two before, we decided to catch up for a drink the Thursday before Easter. Classic Bambi and Trouble; One drink led to two, two drinks led to dancing in to the wee hours in a gay bar in Soho…like i’ve always said, we never have been boring when we’re together. But did she know we were together?
Then came the incessant phone calls and messages in the middle of the night the next weekend while he was in a taxi on his way home. He just wanted to chat, catch up, let me know if was in my area. But why was he not calling her?
Since then, our contact has been occasional, more occasional than it used to be. He is the one to make contact, his messages end with x’s and he is genuinely interested in my travels, work and crazy flat/landlord situation. He’s there for me, he wants to be in my life. But he is with her, so I’ve been keeping my distance as much as I can while being pleasant and polite. He is my friend now, we have a connection is second to none – and not just in a sexual way, but in a deep, hard to explain kind of way.
He called me this Friday wanting to catch up over the weekend. He turns up an hour later at my new flat, beers in hand – the only ones I really like. We have a few drinks and decide to go get dinner. We arrive at a Japanese restaurant in Angel, order cocktails and a selection of our mutually faovurite food. We look at at each other and giggle, this isn’t the first time in the three years we have known each other that a waiter has had to bring over a second table to accommdate all the food we have ordered. #mikeandmolly
The conversation quickly becomes classically us; flirty, rife with chemistry and completely and utterly nostalgic. We talk about the bedroom, we pay tribute at the serious effort we both put in to the long distance situation we encountered and we reminisce, and blush, at our most romantic moments. We talk about families, his deepest pains – something he very rarely discusses. We move to marriage, soul mates, timing and our thoughts on the matter; you can have love, friendship and chemistry, but if the timings not right, it won’t work out. He questions me; do you not think though, that that’s just because you haven’t met the right one, that if you met the right one the timing would be right because you’d make it right? No, I tell him, I truly don’t, I beleive timing is everything. He looks at me for a few seconds and says, I couldn’t agree with you more.
We end up at another bar or two and then delve in to a crazy club dancing the night away. Shots and cocktails are flowing, the conversations and our actions still very flirty. This is where it gets a bit hazy, I know our hands weren’t exactly innocent – but I also know nothing happened.
The next morning I wake up roll over and naturally fling my arm over the man in my bed. I come to, realise who it is, quickly take my arm away in fright and try to wrap my head around what’s going on. Why did he stay at mine, and why did he stay in my bed? My memory is vague, I have a few flashbacks of hands roaming – but nothing serious and nothing coming to fruision. I know nothing happened, but I really do wish less happened. While it’s innocent in our eyes I’m sure she wouldn’t appreciate or accept that Trouble just spent the entire evening out and about, drinking and partying with his ex girlfriend and ended up staying at her house, in her bed.
The weird thing is, this is the first time I can honestly say that I do not have romantic feelings for Trouble. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying I feel nothing when I’m with him, but how I feel now is just so different to how I used to feel. Now when he leaves, I’m not sitting at home feeling down about the fact that we didn’t work out, that we’re not together, that he broke my heart, that he’s with her.
While I would of course take the drama and the heartache out of our past if I could, I now find myself embracing having someone in my life that I have that type of rare connection with. We are close, we care about each other and we have a dam good time together when we hang out. I know my friends don’t agree and most don’t understand and that’s hard for me. I get where there coming from completely and I’m sure that if the shoe was on the other foot I’d be as sceptical and disapproving as they are. Call me stupid, call me naive, call me a pushover – but connections like ours simply don’t come around often.
I honestly can’t explain anymore what he is to me, how I feel about him or how I feel about us.
He is who he is.
I am who I am.
We are who we are.
That’s the trouble with us…
distanced hearts club ♥