Monday, 8 May 2006

Home, sweet home!

In so many ways that this is either going to be a long post, or I'll have to split it over several days...

I just got back from the town where I grew up, it was one of the best weekends I've had in... I don't know how long.

I think people get smellier as they get older, but it was still great
My favourite band ever were playing, my cute ex had got me a ticket and we went to see it with our shared best friend from back then, his girlfriend and his brother with partner as well.

And they rocked! You know how, sometimes when you haven't seen a band in ages, you think they might be somewhat of a disappointment, but they weren't.

The town's tennis hall has never seen anything greater. Or as the singer of the band said twice during the evening, "Bjorn Borg never had this much fun." How true.

Afterwards, we had a few more drinks with one of my closest girlfriends who just happened to be in town for a job interview, it had gone ridiculously well, so there was much to celebrate.

We talked about the previous gig we went to with the same band, where they had to pause the concert to strap the speakers to the concrete pillars in the room to keep them from tipping over due to the floor bending under the weight of people jumping up and down.

My friend and I agreed that my ex (who is also her ex) is still gorgeous.

Then we got a cab home at 230 in the morning because we're now older and she had a flight at 0815 to get to work the next day.

There is something completely wonderful about people you've known for decades, where even if you don't see them for a whole year (which is the case with my ex), they still know you and it just feels comfortable to be around them. I wouldn't swap even one of them for a hundred new and exciting friendships.

Last night, my ex picked me up and took me to his 'new' flat (only new to me, he's been there for a year), rented a video I liked, bought me my favourite crisps, sweets and soda and we pigged out on the sofa. It's funny, his flat smells exactly like his parents' house used to, he must use the same detergents, or something.

View from my ex's flat; the big tanker or whatever is especially romantic
And I still love him. Not in the way I love J, as in I want to be with him, but I love him because he knows what crisps I like and always remembers what films actors have been in when it bugs me in the middle of films.

And because he trusts me completely with stories of unfortunate one-night stands, how he still misses his ex, and so on.

But mostly I just love him because it's so good to know that no matter what I do or say, no matter how many boyfriends I bring home who are rude or jealous or pure crazy, he'll always be there and buy me sweets and tell me that anyone who doesn't want me is an idiot (thereby including himself, as he was the one who dumped me).

And then he drove me home and kissed me on the cheek and promised me we'll see each other soon (which we probably won't).

J picked me up this morning at the airport and it was lovely to see him again as well. But sometimes when I say "home, sweet home" I don't think I really want to think about where I'm referring to.

1 comment:

  1. I never know whether to be hapy or sad about the fact that love doesn't seem to die, even when you've decided that someone isn't for you.


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