Thy Flesh Consumed

Well, folks, here it is. Finally… I know it’s been months since the last time I posted here but so much has been going on in my life lately that I simply haven’t had time; that said, there’s far too much to put here without boring you to death, so I’ll just give you a brief synopsis.

A few months ago, when I thought everything was going reasonably well with Margie, I happened to bump into Charlotte in the pub. After sitting and talking with her for a while, we came to the conclusion that we’re both miserable without each other and it’d probably be best if we got back together. So, after much debating (and also much beer) we decided to give it another go. Or so I thought… The next day, I called her up and she was kind enough to inform me that we were both being silly and that we knew it would never be the same and we’d be hurting too many people if we went ahead. Now, bear in mind that the night before, she was suggesting that we got married, as we’d planned last year. By this point, I’d already split up with Margie who, by all accounts, already knew it was coming. See, Charlotte’s always been something of a bone of contention between Margie and I, and the increasing number of arguments about said ex-girlfriend were becoming tiresome. She knew it, I knew it and I’m pretty sure everyone else knew it, including our mutual friend, Jon. Anyway, the long and short of it is this - I’d just ditched my girlfriend in favour of someone who has a history of screwing me around, and, once again, I’d come off worse.

Sweet.

Despite what had happened, Margie and I remained friends and continued to spend time together, going to the pub, the usual stuff. The more time we spent together, the more she pestered me into going back out with her again. I, of course, said no every single time, simply because I was (and most likely am) still in love with Charlotte and it simply wouldn’t be fair on Margie if I was to see her while still having feelings for my ex. However, this didn’t put her off one little bit. And so, in the end, I gave in. After all, we had been getting on famously and it was almost like we’d never been apart. I don’t think I made a conscious decision to start seeing her again - it just kind of happened, as it so often does with her. We’d spent so much time together it was almost impossible to avoid and so, one day we ended up in bed together. That was it; I’d sealed my fate, yet again!

We’d been seeing each other for a few weeks and everything was going fine when the three of us (us being Margie, the ever-present Jon, and myself) received a letter each regarding Margie’s court appearance. I’m not sure if I’ve mentioned it before, but we were involved in a car accident with a pedestrian and a lamppost, but that’s neither here nor there… Anyway, she attended the hearing and the court ruled that she be banned from driving for a short time (I forget exactly how long) and fined her several hundred quid. Wonderful. The increased tension of her not being able to get around without asking someone or other for a lift actually brought us closer together somehow, presumably because I was there to offer her comfort in her time of need, and I actually thought that this (the third) time would actually be different, that we’d actually stay together. Unfortunately, more was to come…

Now for a demonstration of the complete incompetence I’m capable of displaying: A little over a month ago, I decided that I didn’t like my job any more so, in a fit of anger, I walked out. Right in the middle of a shift. “That’s not so bad” you might say, however, I was struggling to keep up with my rent/loan/bill payments already and this really made it a whole lot worse. As a result, I’ve had to abandon my beautiful 2 bedroom, semi-detached house on the “Prestigious Retreat Court Development” and move back in with my parents. Man, what a step back; I haven’t lived at home for 7 years! Anyways, I now live in a small, single room with my computer stacked upon a chest of drawers and everything I could fit in a car scattered about the place. Everything else I own is currently residing in Margie’s garage, which, I might add, has no damn padlock on it! We’ll just see how long it takes for all of my stuff to go missing, especially with all the bloody pikeys that live around there…

I am writing this in Notepad so I can burn it to a CD and transfer it to my father’s computer in the other room for uploading, because, as some of you may be aware, I’m still waiting for the buffoons at Wanadoo to enable my ADSL line again. In the meantime, I’m stuck with the occasional use of daddy’s little toy - which, incidentally, I had to clean up and completely purge of the porn he’d been looking at and was clogging up his bloody machine - and his poxy 56k dial-up connection. Joy… Seriously, how I ever got by without broadband before is beyond me; it’s almost painful to watch how slowly the pages load.

Anyway, back to me and my women… Last night, after much debating about what to do on her week off, Margie decided that we should get together and go for a drink, seeing as how we now live too far apart to simply meet up after work, (her work, not mine - I’m still unemployed) which we did. After what seemed like an age of silence, she’d finally had enough to drink to spark up a halfway decent conversation, and so we got chatting. Not about anything in particular, just stuff, but somehow we got onto the subject of fat people and how much a problem she has with them, particularly my very dear friend, Sam. Margie hates her. I guess I can see her point of view, I mean, Sam’s in love with me and has been for quite some time now, but that’s just compounded by that fact that Sam is a little overweight. Anyway, Margie proceeded to slag Sam off, right to my face, and couldn’t understand why I was getting so upset about it. Now, don’t get me wrong here, she’s entitled to her opinion, I’d just rather she didn’t share it with me – if there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s having people slam my friends and expect me to sit there and just take it… And so, Margie and I are, once again, in that curious state of purgatory; neither happy with the situation, nor willing to do anything to rectify it.

If I’ve learnt anything over the last day or so, it’s that Margie is shallow and intolerant of anyone that she views as different from herself, and I find myself asking whether I can truly love someone that can’t accept my friends for who they are, rather than what they look like. She also needs to get her head around the fact that I have many female friends and the law of averages states that sooner or later, one of them is going to develop a crush on me. How will she deal with it when someone closer to her starts to have feelings for me? Will she treat them with the same disrespect that she extends to my friends?

Once again, I find myself in a relationship that’s teetering on the edge of failure, and it’s with the same girl.

Thought for the day: If at first you don’t succeed, give up.