Sunday, 30 October 2005

Caring and sharing

The bliss.

I just had a really nice evening with J. He came to see me this afternoon, we went out for a meal and hung out with my depressed flatmate.

Or more correctly, he hung out with her while I played playstation.

This, I'm sure most people agree, is one of the really important things in a relationship; the ability of one person to take care of the other.

But I mean not just directly, like bringing each other tea and in the case of colds, chicken soup, but also, as in this case, more indirectly.

I love my flatmate to bits, but she is having a really hard time and as we came back from our lovely meal (to which J treated me as I was very disappointed when we missed the supermarket opening hours; this would be the direct caring) I knocked on her door and could tell from her voice she was feeling very low.

Let me digress for a moment. Two people cancelled on her in one day. Two! She's a pleasant, fun person who despite her depression doesn't complain about her life much. One of the cancellers even knows she is having a hard time.

I just ask; what's with people? Why can't they just say no when she asks to arrange something, instead of cancelling last minute? I think it's a British thing, an avoidance of conflict or maybe the result of not wanting to say rude (saying no to someone's face is apparently ruder than cancelling last minute by SMS).

End of digression.

So I came back into the living room after knocking on my flatmate's door, and asked J if he thought I should knock again.

I guess I knew he would say yes; I find that really attractive. Many guys or indeed girls would just say not to worry to get you to themselves. "If you don't knock again," he said, "you'll just be wondering how she is all evening and you won't enjoy your GTA. If she tells you to fuck off and leave her alone you've done what you could."

So I went in and she was indeed very down as she told me about the above cancellations and how she'd roamed around town all by herself for ages instead. London is lovely, there's always something to do, but then again that many people with an apparent purpose can make you feel like you're very all alone sometimes.

Coming back into the living room, J could apparently tell from my face that I didn't really know what to do. So he began chatting to her, and then asked if she wanted to do the Guardian quick crossword with him. After about 10 minutes she came out and joined him on the sofa, and they spent a good hour with him knowing all the answers and giving her extra clues.

The reason I think this reflects well on him is that he could tell that I was tired, because being around someone very depressed is tiring and you run out of things to say, so he decided to shoulder some of the burden. He likes my flatmate anyway and they get along well, but I know he did what he did chiefly because it made the evening easier for me.

And then he gave me a lift to work. Before I come off as a selfish bitch can I say that I repaid it with some explosive oral sex fitted in at a convenient point of the evening. Not that I don't enjoy it, but it does do things for him that really surprise me on a regular basis.

Can't say fairer than that. Now how do I get him to marry me?

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