st patricks day


this is the most pure form of truth.   even more pure than the cocaine they serve little kids for school dinners in america.   probably.
what really happened on st patricks day - 17th march 2001 - is quite literally what has started tearing me apart.   the reason for my depression.
it started out alright the night before.   plenty of laughter as we shaved our heads... a little bit of friendly, playful flirting with nicky as she coloured my hair, unsuccessfully, three times.   this was a time almost three months after i had broken up with ivonne and managed to put most of the crap that had happened with women in the last half year behind me.   i was feeling quite good about things all said and done.


we got to the pub pretty early.   about 4pm.   i was feeling a twinge of apprehension because i thought ivonne would be there doing the quiz.   i wasn't sure whether i wanted her and my parents to meet ... be it so my parents could look at me in that "you always fuck things up" tone of voice or ivonne's disapproving "why dont you just stay out of my life" look she probably doesnt have.
ivonne wasnt there and didnt meet my parents.   they left before she started working.
instead i replaced the apprehension with that of heathers arrival.

she claims she got jealous because i got sarah deux's phone number.   she wasnt there when i got it, and probably didnt see that i actually failed to even speak to the girl!
i dont understand heather's jealousy.   she's the one with the boyfriend. the love. the power.
i have suppressed memories. loss of hope. mouring for the fruitless hurt.


her boyfriend went home to do some computer art work or something...   something that intensely irritated her.
she is the sort of person that craves attention.   starves without it.
who's worse?   him for not fulfilling her needs, or her for not respecting his?
whichever, its none of my concerns.   she came over to me and started rubbing my knee.   and my thigh.   and after she'd had a few more vodka and whatevers she was rubbing higher still.
i tried to actively discourage this.   partly because she was drunk, partly because of the hours and hours of talking we've done in the past.. telling each other that it's over - has been for ages, will be for longer... but also partly because ivonne was there.
and it felt uncomfortable.   really it did.
but it also felt good.   what i actually wanted.


when she kept insisting that i kissed her things got out of hand.   i'd previously been thinking about how much i'd like to do it.
that scent she wears - cool waters - is so invigorating.   i really do like it.
but i insisted 'no'.   i had to physically hold her back as much as it pained me to do so.
even more so when she said she'd do anything i wanted... including the phrase "i'll suck your willy" [sic].
yes. after admitting that her boyfriend doesn't feel that much like having sex anymore and her doing all the work, she wants to promptly move into a situation where its exactly the same.


so there was plenty more of that going on until eventually she stormed outside and refused to come back in unless i go out and talk to her.
the problem was, i didnt much feel like going out there, and refused.   for a while   until i actually just gave up and went out there.
she begged some more, probably just trying to save face by now, but i still insisted she was drunk and didnt realise the full implications.
i wanted to hold her, kiss her.   this is what's tearing me apart.   because i could have...
more fool me.
ivonne came out to 'see if heather was alright'.   i just wanted to crawl under a rock.   that was one of the worst parts about the evening.


talking about the night afterwards all she could come up with was "you rejected me, i'm the one that should be feeling bad"
wrong, dear.   i've got to start all over again with the knowledge that i have less than nothing.   i dont even have hope now.
worse still is that i have to live with the fact that i could have done something about the situation.
i could have taken what i so desperately wanted for so many months.   but i didnt.   and unless the opportunity ever arises again, despite all assurances to the contrary, i'll never be able to find out.

do i even still love her?   maybe. maybe not.   but i know i still care about her.   how could i not?   if i didnt, i would have kissed her; gone home with her; taken her for granted.   but i didnt and wouldnt.

and so i'm left spiralling

if she was single... would i have?   yet another good question.   dan certainly thinks i would have as does a loud part of me.   but that would have been an entirely different set of circumstances.   ones which i could have rationalised better.
by not allowing her to cheat on her boyfriend, i've stopped her from becomming something i dont want her to be.
something she won't have to live with, even though she has to live with the knowledge that she would have gone through with it.   maybe that's what love is.

how very noble of me.