I Called Him A Coward…

 It has been a while hasn’t it?  I promise there’s a good reason why.  Our church started having daily prayers every.single.day in the evenings back in April.  Since then and until mid July ish, my life is pretty much wake up, work, home, eat, church office for prayers, home, sleep, repeat!  So far it’s been really good because the truth is, the prayers have really helped me!  For the last couple of months I have been feeling so down, emotional and very frequently on the verge of tears (all this is so unlike my usual character) and it’s the consistent prayers that have helped me deal.

But back to the blog title.  Yes, it was the Young Man I called a coward.

When I got back from America, we continued talking it was all very good.  At the end of March (around the Easter holiday), we were whatsapping back and forth and I think we started talking about the sibling and Kenzie and how things were going with them.  The Young Man then asked me what I would say to mum about him.  Good question, I thought.  So I put it back to him, what should I tell her?  I’m thinking to myself we are coming up to a year  since you told me you liked me and we are no further on.  No conviction, no (formal) proposal and no moving forward.  Meanwhile the sibling in less than six months has introduced Kenzie to the family and they are moving forwards.

“What would I tell her” I ask him.

“There’s someone showing interest, but he lives far way” he texts.

I almost thought he was joking.

“The sibling has introduced his much younger wife to be to mum and the family, my cousin just got married after long distance dating and engagement period and you’re telling me the best I can tell my mum is that there is someone showing interest but lives far away?“

Thereafter I pretty much laid into him and text “you’re such a coward“.  With zero regret, I might add.  By the way what does ‘showing interest’ even mean? Could he be any more vague?

“You just wanted me to say he wants to marry me or wants me to be his wife.  Just because I didn’t write that bit doesn’t mean I am a coward” He text.

By then I could care less about his responses and explanations.  To me, that was the deciding factor that it’s time to close that chapter and move on.

My pastor and I had a chat about the whole thing with the Young Man and I told him about ‘cowardgate’ too.  He says it was harsh but sees why I said it.  Neither of us (my Pastor and I) had received any conviction from God saying that he is my husband and given how he hasn’t actually said the words ‘will you marry me’, then it’s time to move on.  I so concur.  Thus on my whatsapp he has been archived!  Sorry, you can’t have me like that without asking the question.

You would think me calling him a coward and all the other stuff I said would have been enough to kill any sort of emotion or attachment he has to me.  But no, he still continues to message me – it’s as if nothing happened.  I respond generally like I would any acquaintance i.e. ‘hi, I’m cool, hope you are too’ etc.  The MINUTE he texts anything that tries to go back to the way things were – I stop responding and he is archived again.

He had his chance.

On the plus side, the sibling and Kenzie are getting married towards the end of this year!  More on that in future posts.

 

A Second (Unexpected) Dinner With The Young Man…

 Just to refresh, bring you up to speed, it was the  Young Man’s last week in the country.  Since his leaving party, we went from civil and polite exchanges to dinner and bonding.  After dinner on Monday, I assumed that would be the last time I would see him before he left the country so I had pretty much said all my good byes.

We whatsapp a bit on Tuesday and in the evening we talk for ages into the early hours.  Naturally we discussed dinner the day before, him saying he loved me, what he enjoyed about the date and just general chit chat about life, what we want out of marriage, if he wasn’t going away he would have started a relationship/courtship with me and be married within four to six months.  The conversation ends when he says he is so tired he is experiencing chest pains. lol

We whatsapp on Wednesday (last full day in the country) morning on my way to work.  Although he has a busy day, he says he would love to see me and will try to but he has yet ANOTHER leaving party to attend.  Seriously, Mr Popular or what?

Initially when we made loose plans in the morning, I was blasé about it all but I remember being at work in the afternoon and suddenly feeling this sense of loss and needing to be close to him one last time.  I needed to see him.  The feeling, desire, just came on me and I was thinking please let us see each other tonight.  I started hoping and on the way home I tried to calm myself so I would not be too crushed if we did not see each other.  I still hoped though.

I got home, prayed, which helped and then had some dinner as I hadn’t heard from him.  Half way through eating I whatsapp him “?”.   He whatsapp back with “hi, how are you, how was your day etc.”  I’m thinking forget that, let me know soon as whether we are meeting up…but please let us meet up.

I manage to contain myself however and whatsapp back the usual pleasantries day was ok, how was  yours etc.  Are we still meeting up?  He text back that he was already in town.   That was a surprise, I thought the leaving party would be near where he lived which is definitely not close to town.  15 mins later, he whatsapp “where are you, I am leaving now”.

At that precise moment I was doing the washing up in my pyjamas, but I feel a squeal of excitement that we are going to meet up.  “Errr at home, where shall I meet you” I whatsapp.  “Ok, maybe we meet where we met last time” he texts.  Yay!!!  By the way he is referring to Bills restaurant.  Do try to keep up.  Lol.

So I literally finish washing up, wash my face, brush and floss my teeth to freshen up and start getting ready.  The dress outfit I thought was cute an hour ago I now think makes my upper arms look fat.  Change. Spray some perfume, do my hair, almost out the door and I change my dress again!  Grrrrrr.

I leave the house at about 8:30pm and I am the restaurant within 10 minutes.  Role reversal, this time he has been waiting for me.  He has a nice table for two near a window, hidden away in the corner.  Perfect.  I walk over and he stands up and we hug and say hi.  No kiss on the cheek this time.  I sit down but notice that my chair is opposite him and I feel uncomfortable , formal and far away from him.  “I don’t like this, I like proximity” I say as I move my chair to sit to his right.  I felt more comfortable immediately.  He seemed tired, was tired and a little more quiet than yesterday.

We talk about his day, the leaving party – he did contemplate inviting me but thought it would have been awkward for me.  I am touched that he wanted me there.  “I would still have wanted to spend time with you alone though” I say.    After a short while I notice he isn’t instinctively and immediately touching me.  “Why aren’t you touching me today”I ask him.  He laughs and plays with my right hand and we hold hands.  I am expecting him to be touchy feely like he usually is but this time the roles are reversed and he is more laid back.  What’s going on?   I do notice that my hormones and emotions are under control.  I still feel alive and uber happy to see him and spend time with him but I don’t feel that desire and chemistry that I have been feeling.  Result!

“I’m really glad you saw me tonight.  I didn’t expect that we would” I tell him.  Apparently he had every intention of seeing me. “Really?” I say.

He tells me that I should do the ordering since he did it Monday.  We go for drinks but no food because we have both eaten.  I order virgin cocktails as neither of us drink.  When they arrive, I ask him to try some of mine which he does using my straw.  Naughty naughty.  I try some of his but using MY straw.  I love how he is always willing to try something new and sort of immerse himself in things I like.  For the second round, I ordered a watermelon cocktail and it arrived with a quarter size watermelon wedge – I fed him some and then went to feed him again but would slowly pull it away from his lips every time he wanted to bite.  Then we would both laugh.

We talk about him leaving, he says its surreal, he can’t believe he is going.  Says it doesn’t seem as  if I’ll miss him, that I am happy he is going.  I say no, when people leave I let them go but if they go away and maintain contact then I stay in contact but if they don’t then I leave it as they were only supposed to be in my life for that period of time.  “I can’t stress over everyone that lives, – it would be a life half lived” I say.  “I will come back though” he says and he really believes he will.

“Perhaps, but you could come back to Canada, the states or maybe even another part of England.  Or maybe, what if when you get home, you meet someone else and when you come back you’re with someone.  Three months is a long time and where would that leave me if I was just waiting “I say.  He looks at me then he looks down at the table.  “Or what if you meet someone else” he says.  “Would you be heartbroken.  How sad would you be”  I jokingly ask.   He looks sad and continues looking down at the table.  I laugh.  “Would you really be heart broken” I ask.  “Yes” he says eventually “but ill get over it, ill have to”.  I say I’m not the sort of person to fall in and out of love, once I am all in and fully invested, that’ll be it for me.  He just looks and listens when I talk.

Because he is much more quiet than usual and I am as always full of energy, I talk and ask him questions.  We talk about a lot and I talk more about myself than I would usually do.

Above all that I just loved feeling so close to him.

We order more cocktails and keep talking, laughing, “bonding” as he puts it.  We take selfies together.  It’s funny, its playful, its nice and we each tell a story about said selfies.  My story is about the time line of things between us.  His is of how much of a distraction it was having me there for our Friday night prayers.

We muse over what could have happened had he stayed longer.  I tell him I don’t think we would have been as open and as expressive as we have been –“what’s happened over the last couple of days is like a month’s worth of stuff” I say.  He agrees and says we have been bonding the last couple of days  and it may not have been so had he stayed longer.

“Dont you mind me being bigger than you” I ask.  “Are you” he asks.  YES!  I put my hands around his arms and he does the same to me.  I point out his legs are the size of my arms.  He laughs and just shrugs.   I ask if he can pick me up to which he says he definitely can.  Yay, the important things in life.  🙂

We are the only ones left in the restaurant, he pays the bill and gentleman that he is, he holds my coat up so I can put it on.  Awwww.  When we get to the taxi rank, the goodbye is much shorter this time.  We hug, walk a bit and then hug for a bit longer.

And we say goodbye.

We whatsapp a bit when I get home and I send him our selfies.

In the morning when I wake up and check my phone he has whatsapp me, “morning dear, how was your night, feeling sleepy seriously “  He sends pics of him at the airport.

“How was my night?  You know how it was …I was with you” I text back.  He is boarding so I wish him a safe journey and text “I’ll miss you” with a heart.  “Yeah, in the queue.   Miss you too“.

And that was that.

Dinner With The Young Man…

 Ok so after the whole kneeling down together at the leaving party, I only managed to sleep for about four hours that night.  I was shattered and fell asleep at some point between 11pm and 11:30pm but I woke up suddenly just after 3am!  The memories from the party all came flooding back and I tossed and turned for a while, unable to fall into a deep sleep until of course it was time to get up.  Hate when that happens.

Monday morning was fairly normal, I went to work as usual and was able to focus to some degree but I didn’t have much of an appetite.  I asked my boss if I could work through lunch and leave an hour early which was cool.  I just wanted the day to go quickly so I could just meet up with him.  As the time was drawing closer I got that nervous excitement feeling you get when I guess you’re both nervous and excited.  I didn’t know what was going to happen, what to expect, what we would talk about…it was all up in the air.  I desperately tried not to get too excited in case for some reason it was cancelled.  It’s happened a couple of times in the past and the crushing feeling of disappointment I get is not the good life.

Got home, made a green smoothie (just so I at least had some sort of substance in my belly), showered and got dressed.  The skirt and top outfit I had mentally picked out was totally unsuitable so I decided on my black and purple colour block dress.   Another spray of perfume and I was out the door at 19:35.  I called him to find out where he was and he was already in town.  Hmmmm well that’s good, I thought.  He was doing some last minute gift shopping to take back and asked me to choose somewhere where he could meet me.

I chose Bill’s restaurant.

Not too formal and overwhelming, but not too casual.  I didn’t want somewhere too intimate and romantic, but I wanted somewhere where we could chat, food was good and was generally comfortable and relaxing.

When he arrived, I stood up to say hi.  He hugged me and I felt his arm go around my lower back, he apologised for being late and he kissed me on the cheek.  Wasn’t expecting that, but I feel the familiar flutter at the pit of my stomach.

“I really like your dress, I haven’t seen you wear this one before” he says as we sit down.  “I have, I think at the conference” I say.  “I don’t remember but you really look nice” he continues.  I start to feel embarrassed,  “Stop talking about my dress I am getting embarrassed” I say and I cross my arms across my chest in that self-conscious way.  I love attention but then I sort of don’t know how to handle too much of it.  Awkward I know.

The two seater table is tiny and both of us are tall.  I had moved his seat position from opposite me (too intimate plus I prefer him closer) to my left.  Another bonus aside from proximity is that it hides him away from my awful neck lump which I am getting more self conscious about.  He showed me some of the things he bought in town for his family and I see another leaving card and gift as I look through.  Popular, isn’t he?

Neither of us are particular hungry but we agree to share a meal.  We are so engrossed in our conversation that it takes ages for us to order.  I let him do the choosing and ordering and he goes for the Buttermilk chicken burger and sweet potato fries.  Not what I would have chosen (aren’t burgers for 5 year olds?) but, I was curious what he would choose.

But back to the conversation of which naturally I cannot remember everything.  We talked about everything – but you knew I would say that.   As we talk I notice how intently he looks at me and listens to my opinions when I am talking.  He is quite touchy feely as always, holding and touching my hands, stroking my back,….all very nice. Very nice ;-). I could feel the same old stomach flutterings as usual but way more intense.

The conversation was flowing, there was no awkwardness, he was touchy feely and I was ok with that.  At times I did notice that I was starting to touch his hands and stuff when talking, when I realised what I was doing, I would move my hand away.

I tell him how hurt I felt when he distanced himself from me and we were barely talking.   “Even if it was a no, or you no longer liked me, we could still be friends.  I thought you stopped liking me”.   He explained why – he deliberately held back and distanced himself because he had to think things through.  What would happen when he moves back home with the distance between us, did he like me for me or what he could get, was it more than just attraction and loads of  stuff.  He said he had to think things through and that’s what he did during that time.  Plus he had to focus on his post-grad studies too which was uber stressful.

Our food arrived at some point.  I cut the burger in half and divided the sweet potato fries.  He tried to feed me the sweet potato fries on his plate.  I refused to bite.  Why do guys do that to me?  Every single time they try and feed me.  Must be some sort of guy thing?

“How do you feel about me?” I ask him.

“I like you.  I really really like you. I really…” and then his voice sort of catches, he stops and  looks down at the table and he doesn’t say anything for a bit. He is getting choked up!   “Ohhh Young Man, it’s ok don’t cry” I say and I start to feel bad that he feels so sad.  I move my chair closer to him.

We stay sitting close for a while, I’m desperately trying to offer some sort of comfort to make him feel better.  Eventually he is ok but we remain close.  He holds my hand and says “how can I just leave you behind, I really like you”.  “Why didn’t you tell me?  All this time I thought you didn’t like me, I had no idea you felt this deeply” I say.  He says he would have told me, just wanted the perfect time.

The restaurant empties, they clear our plates and we order dessert just to stay a bit longer.  When the brownie and ice cream dessert arrives, we both look at it and clearly have no appetite for it.  I play with the ice cream.  I love chocolate but this must be a first where I let a brownie go without absolutely demolishing it.  He eats a bit of it and of course tries to feed me.  I shake my head and say no, and he smiles.  🙂

He asks if I feel peace about him and I say yeah I guess so.  He asks whether I would be able to handle a long distance thing and we spend sometime talking about this.  He asks in a long-winded way how I feel about him.  “I don’t know” is what I say.  “I would never have thought I was your type or vice versa, but since you’ve told me, I can’t get it out of my head.  It’s just always there and sometimes I think yes then other times I think no.  But, I’m here with you now and it bothered me when we were not talking“.

“What do you think” I ask him.

“I think you’re trying to suppress it and keep it back” he says.

I still can’t say I like him.  But I obviously do?  Maybe I don’t want to like him?  Maybe because he is just not my usual type and what I am expecting or looking for, I just don’t want to like him or him to be the one?  Who knows?!?!

We take some selfies together which was nice.

The restaurant staff are cleaning up, we are the only ones left and its more than obvious that its time to leave.  As we walk along through town we hold hands, our fingers interlocked and just chatting away.  I feel more than gentle fluttering and stirrings in my belly but I don’t care.

When we get to the taxi rank spot we stop.  Time for goodbyes.  We talk, joke, whisper, hug, break apart, hug and continue doing this for a while.  As we hugged goodbye for what seemed like the last time he says “I love you”.

“You love me?  You wait until now to tell me?” I ask.  He laughs that cute baby sounding laugh he does.  “Words are important to you aren’t they” he says.

“Yes, especially when there’s a huge difference between like and love” I laugh.

“I deeply like you, I love you” he says.  We laugh, we hug, we take more selfies.  We (eventually) say good bye.

When I get in he whatsapp me to check if I was home.  We whatsapp for a bit – nothing heavy just general chit chat about the evening and I send him our selfies.  I fell asleep after 1 am and I slept deeply, until I woke up at at 5:14 am.  Why do I keep waking up after 4 hours sleep?  The memories and feelings flooded back immediately and I tossed and turned for a bit, thinking about the evening.

I told the Young Man at dinner that whilst a situation is happening I can process it rationally and logically, its only afterwards that my feelings  about said situation will hit me.   I can process that he is going but it will be afterwards that my feelings will really hit me.  The morning  after, whilst at work it started.  I just suddenly felt a sense of loss and a desire to be close to him again.  I whatsapp him just before 9:30am saying “the reality is hitting me now…and you haven’t even left yet”.  He text me back but I don’t think he fully understood what I meant.

The Leaving Party…

 Feels like it has been a while since I blogged but it really hasn’t.  I have written consistently since my last post because things , feelings, situations all unfolded at a rapid rate.  By the time I would finish writing I would be so tired that editing and blogging was a task too far.

But alas let me gradually bring you up to speed.

So last time I posted, I was on some sort of downer and the Young Man was leaving shortly.  I’ll pick up the story from the Friday evening/night of that same week.

On my way home from work I called Daniel, close friend of the Young Man’s to tell him about the leaving party on Sunday and stuff.  Daniel and I chatted for a bit and then he told me that him and the Young Man were supposed to hang out on Sunday afternoon.  Apparently, the Young Man had told him “make sure you’re down so we can hang out one last time“.  I wont lie, I felt a sharp pain.  Wow, he is really going to leave and not spend any time with me at all.  He is making plans with all his other friends and nothing with me.  The (internal) pain was a little too distracting for me so I prayed about it when I got home, then the sibling and I went to the gym which helped.

By the time I got to prayers, I was indifferent and numb.  When the Young Man turned up (late as per routine) I briefly glanced in his direction but felt nothing.  “Wow, I really don’t feel anything at all” I mused.

At some point during the prayers/service, he came up to me and started joking around, pretending to hit me that sort of stuff.  Hmmmm weird, I thought.

Then he went to the front and talked about his time here studying, the adjustment period, how he used to sometimes cry in his room, (really?!?!?) how welcome we made him feel, he’s gonna miss us all, he feels loved yadda yadda yadda and then he got choked up and stopped talking because it was like he was going to cry.   My heart totally melted and I felt really sorry for him.  When he got back to his seat, I went up to him and gave him a hug.  What can I say, deep down I am soft – when I see people crying I just want to make them feel better.

I hugged him and he literally hugged me back as if he was at the airport ready to board.  Not only that, he held me close, whispered “I wish I could take you with me” and quickly kissed just underneath my jaw line (or my neck if you prefer).  It was all so shocking and sudden I almost didn’t know what to say but I made a joke out of it and whispered back “sorry, I don’t come with your ticket“.  When I broke away from him, he continued to hold on to me, his arm around my waist before I moved back to my seat.   As expected, from that point on, I was half focused on prayers and half wondering what just happened.  The distraction was real.  Nothing else of note happened that night, we both sat together on the way home but it was all normal – probably because he was sandwiched in between me and the sibling.  He almost slipped and reached out to touch me but obviously remembered the sibling sitting to his right.  I giggled inside.

Saturday afternoon and evening was spent in London for a birthday dinner and I enjoyed myself!  I was not overly thinking about the Young Man (although I did wonder how he would fit in because these sorts of gatherings are definitely an annual thing for me) but that aside it was cool.  I had accepted that he was going to leave without spending time with me and I was genuinely ok with that.  So be it and it is what it is, I thought.  I know it may sound like I am just saying it but I truly was fine for things to end that way.

Sunday

Sunday morning was pretty normal for me considering it may be the last time I would see him for some time?  I wore my red heels – make of that what you will.  Everything was pretty much set – his leaving gift had been purchased, the leaving party sorted , all we had to do was make the announcements in church.  He came mid way through the service as expected and because I wasnt sitting close to the door like I would normally do, we did not say hi.  I could feel the faint but familiar stirring at the pit of my stomach.

When the announcements were done about his leaving, he got all shy and wont move from his seat.  I went up to him and guided him out and had to virtually shove him to the front of the church.  Who knew he was so shy?!  I think he even started blubbing again.  What’s with all the crying and getting emotional?!

After service he said his goodbyes to everyone.  When we were standing close,  he hugged me, his face going into my neck.  “I’m going to miss you” he said. I pulled away thinking we still have your leaving party later so you’ll see me then.  At some point there was some play fighting between me and him (when is there not).

The Party

Daniel and I picked him up to drive him to the party.  When I got out of the car he said “boots? It’s not even really winter yet and you’re wearing boots”.  “Excuse me, why are you looking at what I am wearing” I asked back.  He started to say “I always notice…” but didn’t finish his sentence possibly because I continued asking him why he was looking at what I am wearing.  Yes, I’m a sassy one. Lol.

It was such a lovely time.  Good turn out, lots of food, drinks and sweets/cake, music and dancing.  Prayers were said for him, he got emotional and was tearful,  everyone ate, everyone danced, he took pictures with everyone (not me) and then there were speeches.  I refused to give one despite everyone shouting “Belleee, Belleee“.  I just did not know what to say.  I mean come on guys, you know how things have been between me and him since May.  What in the world would or could I have said about him to summarise knowing him? Or the effect he has had on my life?  That was too much plus I am better at writing stuff like that.  I literally did not have the words so I ran away and hid behind someone.  Lol.

By the way did I mention when I caught the Young Man staring at me from across the room as me and Ollie were joking around?  But let’s not get distracted.

A little later, I was doing a bit of dancing when he came up to join us.  I took that opportunity to speak to him and we found a quiet (but freezing) room to chat in.  “Look, I’m sorry I did not say anything, I…just did not know what to say and I am better at writing this sort of stuff to be honest” I said.

“It’s fine I totally understand” he said.

I had nothing else to say and was about to leave when he said “can we pray together?“.

“Yeah sure” I said.

“Can we kneel down?” he asked.

“Yeah sure” I said.  In my mind I’m thinking okkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk.

So we knelt down, closely facing each other and held hands.  We were so close that when I bowed my head, I could my hair brushing his face.  He prayed.  He prayed for me and then started to pray for us.  Yes ‘us’, as in me and him together!

Honestly, the entire experience was so surreal and unexpected I was half thinking what’s going on?  I am in a room, kneeling down with the Young Man and praying.  How did this happen?  But beyond that it felt soooo intimate. There was just this feeling that was, I can’t quite explain it but ‘intimate’ is the closest I can get to it.  Someone opened the door midway through the prayers but he just continued and neither of us looked up.  I think I finally understand the phrase “it felt like we were the only two people there“.  I remember how different his voice sounded, quiet but confident, authoritative.   It sounded different to how he sounds when he talks normally. Like I don’t hear him use that voice or tone when he talks to others, just me.  Sort of like it was a secret or just something between me and him.

When he finished I looked up at him, holding his gaze “I don’t understand, were you praying for me or us” I asked.  He just continued looking down at me, holding my gaze but not saying anything.  I don’t ever remember us holding each others gaze so easily but intently and for so long without me starting to feel uncomfortable and breaking away.  “You’re leaving” I said.  We hugged whilst still kneeling on the floor.

We stood up and I guess not knowing what to say (at least on my part) we hugged again.  “I’m going to miss you” he said as we hugged.  He’s been saying he is going to miss me every time he has hugged me since Friday.

“How much” I asked looking  up at him.  We hugged again.  For the first time ever with him, I was not just letting him touch me and I allow it but rather, I was my normal expressive self and either pulling him or going in for a hug.  “Then why didn’t you spend any time with me” I asked him.

“I wanted to but I just wasn’t sure whether you were free, what your timings were.  What about this week when are you free” he asked.

 “You should have told me because I was just thinking you weren’t going to spend any time with me”.

His voice sounded different again as we were arranging plans.  Quiet but authoritative, intimate.  Like it’s only me he talks to like that.  We agreed that we would meet in town the next day (Monday) at about half 7/8  when I got back from work.  We hug again and I tiptoe and I impulsively quickly reach up and kiss his neck, just underneath his jaw line.  He looked down at me and immediately kissed my cheek.  “Tomorrow then”.  “We have lots to talk about” he said.   I laughed, “really” I said and then turned around to leave the room.  He followed closely behind me “and you’re going to visit me right” he said.  I laughed.   We went our separate ways after leaving the room.

I couldn’t focus after that.  The surreal experience just kept replaying in my mind.  How did we go from not speaking to kneeling down…to praying and now to meeting up the next day.  It was too much.  Ollie would be talking to me and suddenly my mind would wander.  My mind would wander before I even realised it had wondered.  I could not even hide it and Ollie was convinced something was wrong.  “No I’m fine” I insisted and two minutes later I would be lost in my own thoughts.  I was wondering how the Young Man was coping because I was just weirded out with all that happened.

We didn’t spend any more time together at the leaving party after that, just waved goodbye to each other in the car park.

When I got home I spent far too much time looking in the mirror and going over what happened to see what my facial expressions were.  Even kneeling down in front of the mirror. Yes, go on judge me.

The kneeling so closely together, joining hands and praying together is an image that will stay with me for a long time if not forever.

Is Age Really Just A Number?

 A while ago, I wrote about Wentworth…guy I met who I was attracted to.  I have yet to write or rather, finish writing part 2 of meeting him therefore you would not have been aware that Wentworth is in fact younger than me!  Yes, I have to use the exclamation mark because that’s how shocked I was, when our ages were thrown into the mix of our conversation.  I still remember my eyes almost popping out in shock when I discovered he was four years younger than me.  He had ‘confidently’ guessed that I was in my mid 20’s. “errrr No”!   He could hardly believe it when I told him I was early 30’s.  His reaction did not shock me because I get that a lot.   I don’t know what it is but most people seem to assume I am in my early 20’s.  At work people used to play the “guess how old Belle is game” with the new starters.  At church the undergraduate students assume I am one of them.   I’ve lost count how many times I have been asked what moisturiser I used.  Believe me I am not bragging, it’s just one of those things.  Just like how I am asked how I manage to find nice shoes for my feet.  The tall ladies will understand what I mean.

It is of course flattering knowing that I still look young and stuff but crikey a younger man?  Never even occurred to me.  Sure I have seen men I find attractive that are younger than me but it’s always on the surface level never anything worth delving into or giving even five minutes worth of consideration.  They were dismissed simply because they were younger.   But this time, not only is Wentworth younger…but by 4 years?!!?!? I cared and didn’t care about the age difference  when he told me.  I was having far too much fun talking to him and getting to know him and after about 5 minutes neither of us seemed to care.

But then when I got home, reality and perhaps logic hit and I started thinking about the age thing.  What I was doing when I was his age, can someone that young really be ready and responsible for marriage – yes I know people much younger than him get married all the time but hey, these were my thoughts!

Would I have to be the main bread winner? Not necessarily I thought, seeing as the sibling is younger than me but earns double my income.  Would I be able to have intelligent convos and exchanges with him? Could we stimulate each other mentally, intellectually and spiritually?  Would he be very immature and would I always be trying to school him at best or at worst mother him?  Ewwww at mothering a grown man but you get the point.   My mind was working over time.

How would he fit in with my friends and family?  How would I fit in with his?  It’s bad enough he is younger than me but he is also younger than the sibling!

It’s something I was ummming and ahhhing about since meeting him and when I see younger men/older women couples.  Although, thank goodness we are not that much older/younger than each other à la Demi Moore/Ashton Kutcher – who wants to look like they married their son?

But couple of days ago on my way to work, it’s almost as if God just dropped something in my spirit.  I was pondering over the actions of some of the older men I know and by older I mean later 30’s/40’s and thinking my goodness they’re acting like immature, emotionally stunted going through puberty boys when suddenly God just showed me that older really does not necessarily mean wiser.  And then it dawned on me that all the men I would say I am closest to in church are all younger than me – some by more than 6 years.  Yet we click, we talk, we laugh, discuss all things and have shared interests.  On Sunday after church, I was hanging around with one of them and we went to a gallery and he was explaining art to me (performing arts is more my thing).  And with the older men…I am often left thinking “how can you be so limited and insecure in your thinking and ways“.   Harsh but it is what I think

The point of this is not to generalise and paint younger men as the way forward but it dawned on me how I could get it wrong just because of age.  I would automatically think older is wiser – despite the examples I see on a day to day basis.  Ideally, I would prefer my spouse to be older than me – not too old as again I am not looking for a father figure or someone to teach me about life…but anywhere between a year older and at an absolute push 10 years is a pass.   Not keen on more than a generation gap.

But  I guess this week God showed me that age at times, is just a number.  Maturity is indeed a choice.

Does Father’s Day Mean Anything To You?

 Yah, I know I am a couple of days late with the whole father’s day post but that should give some insight as to my view/opinion on father’s day.   I totally forgot it was father’s day until it was hastily mentioned just before the sermon in Sunday’s service.  I had my ‘oh yeah’ moment quickly followed by, I better text my father the obligatory annual “happy father’s day text“.   I got distracted and forgot to text him until some point before the end of the service, father’s day was mentioned again.  With the second clunky reminder, I sent my father the awkward but annual “happy father’s day text“.  A couple of hours later, the sibling text me telling me it was also our father’s birthday.  How many more awkward moments can we fit in before 3pm on a Sunday afternoon.  I sent another text saying “and a happy birthday to you too.  how did you spend the day?”.

By now you should be slowing but surely getting the notion that I do not have a relationship with my father.  I don’t even know him as a person.  My parents fell in love whilst still young, married young (mother says she was 21) and they had me when mother was about 27.  They had the sibling less than two years after me.  It was all going swimmingly well until my father decided that infidelity was a good idea and just like that the marriage ended.  I don’t think I was even 5 years old when they separated.  I never saw him after they separated and I was too young to remember anything of significance about him and who he was as a person.

My only memories involving him are of the bad thing he did which led to divorce and him marrying someone else.  There are other bad bits in between the marriage breaking down and the divorce such as a bit of domestic violence but let’s move on from that.  The main point to take away from this is that he did not keep in contact with the sibling and I.  If you were non the wiser, you would never know that he was married and had a family before his current second family.

I was 25 years old when the sibling and I met up with him for the first time since the separation one evening in winter.  It was almost comical that we were going to meet our father at a busy train station…and had zero idea what he looked like.  Nevertheless, from then on, a sort of relationship between him and us was started.  By sort of I mean exchanges of birthday/holiday season texts. Since he downloaded whatsapp he also comments from time to time if I change my profile picture.

But alas, I grew up without a father, a mother doing everything for us and no idea what it is to live in a two parent household with a husband and wife.  I don’t know what a father’s role is in the home.  I don’t know what he is supposed to do, say or advise me on.  I don’t know how a father fits into the picture of a home/family.  Where do you insert him?  Where is he relevant?  What does he do?  Would I have been happier if he was around?   Would life have been different?  Would I be different?  Would I see men in a different way?

I’ve often heard the phrase women choose/marry men like their fathers but how true is that when I don’t really have a picture of a father.  My picture of a father is non existent because for the simple reason, I did not have one.  But perhaps that is my picture?  Maybe my picture of a father is that of a man that is irrelevant, a burden and one that breaks things.

I am not naive enough to think that my relationship (or lack of) with my father hasn’t had some sort of psychological impact on me and the way I see/relate with men.   Don’t get me wrong, I never contemplated entering a nunnery, in fact quite the opposite, I have quite a lot of male friends but there’s still seeds sewn from the past.

I don’t know the depths of the impact but for now I do realise a couple of things.  I realise that I don’t automatically as a given, respect men.  I have met many in fact most of the women I meet seem to have this automatic by default respect for a man just because he is a man.  That’s missing for me.  A man has to prove himself to me or rather earn my respect for me to look up to/respect him.  There just has to be a reason why I should listen/follow what a man says.  I’ve also realised that I underestimate men and their capabilities and I tend to think the worst of them at times.  It goes back to the man proving himself to him.  Unless a man shows me his capabilities and values, he is relegated to the (I don’t want to use the word useless but I am struggling to find another word) pile.  I also didn’t know how to be soft and womanly around men.  How could I know when I grew up with a mother who did all the cooking and all the DIY stuff around the house.  She would cut my brother’s hair and then do mine.   There’s lot’s of other things too in the way I see and categorise men but I am not in the mood to explore how far the rabbit hole goes at this time of the night.

Luckily, it’s not all doom and despair.  God has put in my path loads of wonderful men, caring fathers,  faithful husbands and lovely bachelors.  I know and have seen that there’s a reason why God said “it is not good for man to be alone“.

For now though, father’s day is still the day that doesn’t mean anything to me other than time to send the annual awkward text.

It’s the good life 

 

 

 

I Want To Get Married…

 Yeah I know that’s pretty much stating the obvious considering my blog is (supposedly) primarily about my life as a singleton however, the thought just dawned on me last Thursday morning en route to work.  I think, (well actually I know) that I have been so distracted and worn out by my awful, tear inducing, stressful job that I forgot to think about a somewhat pressing desire I have.  To get married!   As I was driving to work, the thought just dropped in on me “hey, what happened to getting married, it’s May already“.

To answer the question, yes, I still very much want to get married.  Preferably soon as possible.   Now obviously I am going to need a couple of things in place before that happens such as actually having a significant other and said significant other asking me to marry him.  But alas, I am currently single with no real hint of anyone on the horizon.

So, let’s get the party started with a few popular questions I get asked repeatedly:

How single are you?

• Very single – in every sense of the word.  I couldn’t be more single if I tried.  There are no male friends lurking in the background that could be potential husbands.  Search my heart and thoughts and you may find fleeting thoughts about Wentworth (more about him later) or perhaps other interesting individuals that cross my path from time to time but that is about as exciting as things go by way of a potential husband.

 

Why am I single?

• By choice really.  I don’t date (see reasons below) and lack of viable options also make it possible to remain single without temptation.  It also helps that I believe in the biblical principles of marriage, specifically Genesis chapter 2 (if you were curious) which is the first blueprint we have for what marriage is and how it all started i.e. God designs the right man and the right woman, brings them together, at the right time, according to His will.  So far, hubby to be hasn’t been revealed to moi and until I receive the epiphany, single I’ll remain.  In every sense of the word.

Am I happy with my current single status?

• In short, no.  Couple of years ago when I started blogging, yes.  But now not so much.  Mrs Belle Beejou I would like to be.  I can’t specifically point the date or the hour when my desires changed or even why.  I just know I am at that point in my life where I’d like to use ‘us’ and ‘we’ pronouns.

 Is there anyone that appeals to me?

• This is tricky.  Yes there is someone (Wentworth) that does have me hoping I haven’t got food on my face or some other equally embarrassing thing and in general I am not blind – from time to time I do meet people where I think “hmmm, not bad” but again it’s not that simple.  Marriage is for life (yes I know you’re wondering if I have not encountered the divorce concept) and therefore my reasons for going into it has to be more than just my heat rate picking up a bit of pace because I like someone.  Also, see answer above to the question “why am I single“.

Do I want to get married?

Duh!! Is that not obvious already? However, I want to get married at the right time and to the right man for me, as designed by God.  I have no desire or willingness to get married just because of:-

–       Family pressures (mother is great and is not a Mrs Bennett a la pride and prejudice)

–       Desperation (too young to be desperate)

–       Loneliness (maybe during the holidays – blame the marketing, but not severe enough to induce me into a dodgy union)

–       Financial (got mine already)

–       Children (Children are a reward from God)

Obviously, there are a couple of things mentioned which I need to expand on such as the why I dont date, the divorce thing, Wentworth etc, but it’s late, I have more writing to do and I would like to go the gym for a quick interval session.

It’s the good life