When you're alone in your head
I love that song.....where do you go to my lovely....how romantic. I was introduced to this song by an ex boyfriend. Ahh yes them dreaded ex creatures. He was a thinker like me. I liked that about him. You could see the thoughts ticking over in his head. We were both very young, sixteen I think. He was my first love (not really love, but as close as you ge to it at 16). He wasn't much of a talker, but he was a romantic. My love for talking distressed him at times. Words were useless wastes of time, used, but rarely had much meaning. He used to like me to read to him. He'd phone me up and say go and get a book and read me a few pages, he did the same for me too. It was nice, comforting in some way. The memory that sticks with me about this boy is one I don't think will ever leave me. Let me first of all picture him for you. He was about 6'2, well built, shaved head, he was quite an intimidating character, but he was a pussy cat. At sixteen he knew of my love for writing, but I refused to let him read any of my stuff. He understood but one day I wrote something, and it wasn't amazing or anything but it was just the right time, and I offered it him to read. He said I could read it to him. He lay next to me, resting his head on me. I started reading, my voice shaking at first. he started stroking my leg, just a reassuring gesture to let me know it was ok. It worked, I forgot he was there for a short time. I carried on reading. Almost at the end I glanced at him, as the reassuring leg stroking had stopped. Silent tears were rolling down his face, by the end I too was crying. Neither of us knew why and we never talked about it, as sometimes words are not enough, but we both knew it was special.
I was sixteen then and he is the most romantic guy I've come across. Not in an obvious way, but in a nice way. It wasn't love, we thought it was but it wasn't. We grew apart. He joined th Navy. He phones me every christmas and birthday to catch up. That sparks gone. He thinks I broke his heart . I didn't. I became realistic. I don't know who that sixteen year old girl was, but it's not the woman I am today. That makes me sad. She was so open, so willing to love and trust. So young. He told me he was going to the Navy when I was seventeen. I didn't believe him. He worked so hard. Training, working, learning and he got in. I was so proud. I knew that we couldn't stay together though. We were already changing, wanting different things, then was the time to let him go, he wanted to stay together though. We didn't. He phoned me a few months later all bitter. telling me how happy he was and didn't I regret letting him go. Did I regret it? No. He was a part of my life I'll never forget, but that's all it is a memory.
So why have I brought all this up, I hear you cry. Romance is dead. There I said it. Maybe not for everyone but for me the last nail has been put in the coffin and there's no going back. Romance makes me sick. You know why? Because I think it's fake, I honestly do. I see a guy buy a bunch of flowers and I automatically think, ohhh, what's he done wrong! I see loved up couples and I think, ewww! Don't worry, I know I'm a cynical old hag, but that's the way I am. Now, I know what you're thinking, if it was happening to me, I would love it. Maybe. If it was the right guy. But since sixteen the times any romance has been thrown my way, I react to it badly. It makes me uncomfortable. I fear sometimes I'm beyond repair.
I was listening to the radio last night, and apparently the average couple spend two hours of 'quality' time together an evening. Usually in front of the television! What happened to the art of conversation? Believe me it is an art form with some of the cavemen I've come across. To sit and talk to someone for hours, to connect with someone on a level you didn't even know existed. For them to laugh before you tell the joke. For them to know exactly what you're thinking. When words just aren't enough, that's romantic.
I figure I'm a cynical romantic, on the quiet of course. I'd like romance, but I don't expect it. Even if I get it, i doubt I'll trust it, but if it's for real. Time will prove that. Romance and love are different things. Both together must be something amazing, maybe one day I'll find out. The sixteen year old me wants to know what it's like. I owe it to her at least.