Another week has slipped by without too much trouble. I’m doing more things in the office – not just archiving and enjoying my job – which isn’t something a lot of people can say.
I saw a couple of friends last night for a meal and a gossip. I made a mistake though. When one of them said “So how long have you and Helios been together?” I didn’t stop and remember that he and I had kept things quiet at the start of our relationship – I said “Since 2006!” and the other, who had been really sweet to me through my divorce, gave me the most dirty and judgmental look ever. At the time she warned me about getting serious with Helios too quickly. Oh well. I would say that all’s well that ends well but obviously that’s not taking other people (like Ramman and Helios’ ex wife) into account…
So my friends asked if I thought if Ramman (the ex-husband) was happier now. Well, who wouldn’t be if you’re that money-orientated? He’s got the house on the hill, antiques in every room, a Mercedes on the drive and a hand-built kitchen and new upstairs bathroom. I suppose it depends on your definition of happiness, doesn’t it? I wanted a husband who was brave enough to share my life. What Ramman wanted was money. I expect he is happy. Luckily so am I.
These two and I have decided to grow old disgracefully together. Whenever we get together it’s always a laugh and a half. The disapproving one told us about the time when she was little, her grandmother came to visit and she had to share a bedroom with her. Nan, unfortunately, snored. So my friend got up in the night and touched Nan’s shoulder saying “Nan, you’re snoring.” Nan said to my friend, “Piss off!” and remembered nothing about it in the morning!
My girlfriends and I have organised to get together again in two weeks time to see a play about the history of underwear. It should be quite an evening!
The only other news of note is my time with Helios’ son, Apollo. He’s impressed me no end. It’s his half term school break this week and we’ve been chatting on an IM site, perhaps a bit more than usual. He seems a thoughtful and cautious boy. Well, I say boy, he is 18 and therefore nearly a man – and I’m sure he is a man in his own mind. Every time I sign off I say “Thanks for chatting to the oldies.” The most recent time I’ve chatted to him he gave me a compliment: he likes chatting to me because I make him think. He likes his synapses working. High praise indeed from one so young and thoughtful!
His sister, Maia, hasn’t been on line as much to us, but as I say I don’t want to pressure either of them into a relationship with us. It’s always better to start gently. If I punished them for not paying me attention, they’d never want to pay me any attention!
All this chatting and messaging has left me desperate to see them in March. I go over and over what I should say first “I’m petrified to meet you” springs to mind but I’ve also considered “I’ve missed you”. I can’t help but wonder if they’ll feel ridiculous if I grab them and hug them: I expect they might not be as tactile as I am – or might just be embarrassed to get a bear-hug from a Little American! I really don’t want to make them uncomfortable. I suppose the best way to know is to ask them if I can hug them – once I know that I’ll see them of course.
I want them to know that I love them already. I won’t judge them. I won’t criticise them (or I might just by simply raising an eyebrow and saying “Are you sure you want to do that?”). I consider them to be part of my English family. Perhaps not related by blood but related by love – and what’s more important than that, eh?