I could not have asked for a better way to end the Christmas festivities, other than a tribute night of Frank Sinatra enjoyed over sparkling wine with a beautiful old time bestie, all overlooking London's night skyline. I have concluded that when i die, and my loved ones discover hidden in a steel vault- the link to this archive of useless blogged musing..when you read this post, take it as my dying request that Frank Sinatra's 'My Way' be played as my charmed remains are being returned to mother earth.
But back to the perfect winter's night with F. that formed this quick post. F is currently going through a break-up with a long time boyfriend, and we'd met up because she finally wanted to discuss the matter surrounding the breakup. So, just as the curtains closed on the song 'something stupid', she finally spoke.
We'd all heard about F. and T.'s breakup at the same time. She'd sent a broadcast message two weeks before christmas with the brief words: 'T. and I are no longer together. BB will be turned off for some time-I'll be fine'. Then she'd sent another message to five others asking if we could do France over the weekend with her-she needed support. Who could say no. There were no tears in France., neither where there much words, and nobody pressed for an explanation. Most of the time, she was nestled into someone's shoulders and just stared ahead into nothingness. When it was time to leave on sunday, she finally cried, and said that was the end of the matter. I can never understand where that girl gets her strength from. Her blackberry has been off since then so i was nicely surprised when she sent me a text message to come for the Sinatra event with her.
'He said he's not satisfied with my body-He's not sexually attracted to me.'
I was taken aback. They'd been together for seven years.
'He loves me, we're amazing together, i'm his best friend, and he knows he's going to regret his decision, but he said if he goes ahead, it'd mean him sacrificing his sexual needs, and he doesn't feel strong enough to do that. He said he's never cheated on me, but with a future together, he sees it as inevitable.'
She managed a weak smile.
'So, that was it. Seven years, we've been through the worst, enjoyed the best, and gave it all up because my breasts are not big enough and waist line not round enough. At least he was honest.'
I didn't say anything. Maybe because i am not a fan of giving cliche responses. Maybe because i hated to admitt that in an off-hand sort of way, i admired the guy's honesty (albeit utter foolishness) or maybe bacuse i was just short of words. Either ways my mouth said nothing, but my mind raced through alot as i penned this thoughts.
I remained quiet and allowed her settle into a left handed embrace. We asked for a refil of our glasses (maybe wishing it was that easy to also ask heaven for a small top-up to my hurting friend's cup size) and waited for the next song to begin.
P.S. F. is a really really awesome person. She's beautiful, funny, highly intelligent (i kid you not), and she's got the best smile. I reckon she wears a 32A...but T.V and porno reckons that good sex begins at 34C.
Love or Lust..i've ben asking people the question and everybody's so far insisted on having the two. So what happens if the two do not come in the same package? So far...no response. It's a funny sort of vicious cycle...we have commercialised and promoted sexuality...and are alarmed at the subsequent rise in infidelity. Who is shooting who..man and woman alike?
I am none a saint, because i have also wished for the two, and hesitated if i was asked to only pick one. Today....I know I'd pick a fine soul, a glossy body.