Crying, waiting, wishing, hoping

I LEFT work for lunch today, after battling to finish another Singled Out column. However the original one was far too confusing for even myself to understand.
Think yourselves lucky you’re not being dragged down with all the crazy details of my love life, documented in the original.
The lightning bolt of inspiration came from two groups, one of each sex, hanging around in town until it was time to trudge back up to school for what was probably to be another uneventful afternoon.
The girls, all ponytails and eyeliner, were attempting to match-make for one of their friends. Said friend then attempted to act like she didn’t know or want them to do it, even though it had been planned like a military operation since form class three weeks before.
Cue nervous giggling from the girls when the boys shouted back that the answer was yes. Knowing how these things work, that would probably be how the relationship would be until he worked out just exactly which one he was now betrothed to.
On the other hand, the girl would skip back to school, imagining her new surname, leaving the boy struggling to remember hers.
I’m not totally cynical. I know a few people who met like this at school and are either still together, or enjoyed a long and happy relationship.
I also know a few who met at school, didn’t see each other for years, only to meet up and fall in love all over again years later.
Every time I buried my head into the cushions thinking about my favourite ex over the weekend, Mama chanted: “Absence makes the heart grow fonder.”
I tried to explain that I’ve been absent from him for four years; I don’t need to grow any fonder.
Yes, my pondering paid off and the big reunion which had been promised for several months happened last week, with startling results.
We spoke of our his-and-hers feelings for each other and cut ourselves up over distances and other obstacles in our way.
It was so good to be in his arms again, and to know I was in his thoughts, after all this time. But I knew he was in a very new relationship and so didn’t want to put any pressure on him. I had nothing to lose — except him.
Leaving him at the train station was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. It was the big romantic moment I’ve yearned for, but I wanted it to be so different. Absence indeed.
The trouble with my city-based girlfriend is that there is not enough distance between her and the ex who she will always love, no matter what he does. I feel if she did distance herself he would realise he wanted her back. But he knows how and she is weak.
Another friend is an ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’ success story.
She met my college neighbour back in the day and instantly felt a connection. The trouble is she was too committed to another friend who was very vocal in her admiration for this species.
Years later, they met randomly in a nightclub and have now been living together for more than six months. The down side to this is she’s now finding out just what her mum went through living with her.
I can vouch for her not being the most tidiest person in the world. This weekend I think she left half her suitcase all over my bedroom floor and half a packet of noodles all over my kitchen.
But at home with her man she is of the view that it’s not acceptable to leave three-day old plates in a sink of cold, dirty water because you want to watch the football or play the guitar.
She says: “I’m in no way obsessive. I can quite easily finish my dinner and leave my plate next to me for hours. I do also have a slight problem with putting my clothes by and so the bedroom can sometimes resemble a giant jumble sale.
“But like most people, or actually most women, I have a level on the untidiness scale that I can’t let my surroundings drop below. If something will attract insects and/or make the place smell, I want it moved.”
Unfortunately, her boyfriend has no such level: “I can come home from work and find him quite happily sitting amongst old food boxes, empty bottles and wet towels. Then when I start to tidy up, he says: ‘I’ll do it in a minute’.”
“Now, I said those exact words to my mum and dad (who was very tidy actually) and I know that I really did intend to do it in a minute. Or after watching repeated repeats of Buffy, or painting my nails, or after New Year. And I realise now they knew that too, which is why they got so annoyed.”
Now it’s got to the stage when even if he tidies up, she knows it’s only to stop her going on about it for a few hours, and that she’ll come home tomorrow to find the living room scattered with the potential contents of her bin.
“And that’s why I have to pre-emptively nag,” she explained: “It’s just a bid to hammer home the tidying up message.
“Before I begin hammering things into his head.”