Irony — somehow so much in my life comes back to and down to it.
YMK has been more in attendance this week than ever, except he needed friendship and understanding than a lover.
At first, he wasn’t telling me what was going on. He’d show up, and be his playful self, but underneath it, I was picking up the waves of tension rolling off of him.
I realised I was giving him sanctuary from all that was overwhelming him, and he needed a space where he could just retreat from what ever it was, and just be himself. He asked me silently, without saying the words and so I gave him what he needed.
On Tuesday night, he came over here and fell asleep in my bed. He told me he nearly killed a man earlier that day, and he had smoked two packs of cigarettes, and had been drinking since the day before. He told me he was in a dangerous mood, so I rubbed his neck for him and eventually he drifted off.
He couldn’t talk about what was bothering him, and I didn’t pressure him to give me what he couldn’t. When I woke him up, he told me it was so hard for him to get out of my bed.
“Your bed is so comfortable. This room is so comfortable,” He said.
“You mean your bed is so comfortable,” I said alluding to his buying my bed off of me.
He smiled to himself, “Yeah, well okay, my bed.”
He eventually did go home, promising to come through the next night.
The next night, he did show up, but he was still struggling with whatever it was. Although he initially refused to tell me the story, it came out anyway.
So we know he has this 18 year-old girlfriend. What you may not know is that she is studying, preparing to begin legal studies to become a lawyer. Turns out, his now ex-girlfriend, is an only child, and was lying to her overprotective mother about her whereabouts. When she was to be in school, she would be spending time with YMK.
Well, it appears that one of YMKs neighbours, who just happens to know his girlfriend’s mother, called her (the mother) and informed her of her daughter’s exploits. Mama freaked out, and gave the daughter an ultimatum. Go with YMK and live, but without her blessing, cut off and disowned, or study and finish school and become a lawyer like she (the girlfriend) wants to become and has stated is her dream. She, YMKs girlfriend, chose school.
I can’t say I blame her, I think she made the right choice for the wrong reason.
Except, our boy is a bit tore up over the whole scene, and why wouldn’t he be? They’ve been together for more than two years. His girl’s mother forbids any further contact and you can tell under his playfulness, there’s a part of him that’s dying inside, and in terrible pain over it.
The night this whole story came out, he reached for me and I could tell he needed some comfort, so I gave it to him. The desperation in his touch, the little sounds catching in the back of his throat, he just held on to me. The sex was particularly good between us on this occasion, but I know what is going on, I’m not stupid.
One of reasons I took on the situation with YMK, is because it was ‘safe.’ We were friends, I was leaving, he had a girlfriend. There wasn’t to be a whole you know emotional scene; and there hasn’t been. ‘Upwards to now,’ (as they says it in Bim) we have not had a serious disagreement that hasn’t been settled by rational, reasonable discussion, or outright one-upmanship. Neither have we been too emotionally twisted up either. For me, I know I like him a lot, but there’s a line I’m not getting close to crossing. For us, it’s like being free from having to worry about what happens next, the moment is far more important. It’s not like we haven’t talked about it. We are both being pragmatic, which in the circumstances, is obviously the rational, logical thing to do.
Ha! Ha! Long time readers will remember, irony being one of those companions in life, I’ve had to learn how to deal with.
I am a little confused myself and what this means on an emotional and mental level. This is becoming a fucking theme. This repeating pattern in my relationships with men, I find it so fucking impossible to ignore.
Suddenly, the situation between myself and YMK, has turned into a familiar configuration. In more situations than I care to recall, when I get involved with men, somehow it’s either another woman who is more important, or they’re recovering from an all important lover affair.
Either they cannot commit, because their hearts are still broken, whether months, weeks, days or still in that shit, and therefore, things between us are just not possible. Or, they’ve broken up, and think I’m great, just you know, how it goes ladies….. ten kinds of fuckwittage, and a real woman has experienced them all.
Except for me, I find myself in this ‘healing’ role. They need some kind of healing from me, and that’s what they get. For me, every time I got through it, it’s another message about myself and how I handle things, that makes all the difference in the world.
I have been used, sometimes consciously, wilfully — other times, it’s been a give and take situation, other times I have refused, flat out.
This situation with YMK is a interesting. We are very comfortable and natural with each other and although I’m beginning to realise getting a younger man is no silver bullet when it comes to getting sex on demand. I can certainly understand that, there’s been a whole lot of shit going on, for both of us. Certainly he and I have agreed to put some emotional limits on our relationship.
Even before this whole scene with his girlfriend and shit, I knew he liked me a lot, more than he felt comfortable with, we talked about it, and I know I like him more than I should all things considering.
That in itself was very confusing, this new twist is well, you know you just want to put the tape on pause for moment and ponder the permutations of what really fucking happens next?
He’s been over here a lot over the last few days, and we went to the movies on Friday night. He brought me lunch yesterday, and I’ve been taking care of him too.
This morning, on his way down to the market to run some errands for his mother, he stopped by cuddled with me for a bit, promising to come back later.
I told him I had dreamt I had taken a desk from work, or that somehow I had acquired it, and was taking it home. A desk with room for four people to sit at, and with numerous cubby holes, shelves and such.
“Do you know what it means?” He asked.
“No, I’m not sure,” I replied.
“It means you’re not supposed to go to England.” He looked down at me and smiled, his little smile. He kissed my cheek, then pinched it.
I feel strongly he is a part of my life for a reason, but the reason doesn’t include not going to England.
He’s mentioned more than once that he would come to England. I keep thinking I’d love for him to, but you know, I will never tame him. Nor would I want to. It’s his very rangy wildness that I adore.
Yesterday I watched him, while he scuffled with a man holding a pit-bull, and I worry about his state of mind at the moment. I just keep thinking that to be a friend, is to tell him as I see it, but at the same time, whatever it is between us, I would like to see it play itself out. I don’t know how it’s going to be, but I’m definitely going to England. Of that there is no doubt in my mind.
:sigh: Whenever I begin to really ponder all this, all I keep coming up with is, “My goodness!”
I will miss him when I go; hell I miss him when he goes home.