Wednesday, 12 October 2011
I went to a meeting today and it was not good. It was obvious that he had been caught out and he knew it. He saw my face when he told me to come back later and he saw what he'd done and he went on the defensive and I was cold. I came back an hour and a half later and he was harsh. I sat and I knew what the outcome would be so I didn't even bother to take of my jacket and my head became so hot and I felt my face burning as my body temperature bounced off the limiter and I was too set in stone to care. I stopped giving him the time of day. What he said hurt. The intent was to ridicule and deride and it worked. There is no way you can win when it feels as though you are living at home with your parents again so I became monosyllabic and shot darts of poison wherever I looked. Someone put their head around the door and I smiled a vicious smile as he suggested they meet for a pint. As I left I knew it was time for the post game review and I went off without a care for dignity or winning or social interaction itself. The cool air outside helped my warm head and I felt stuffed in a bubble of air. On the street they were painting lines on the road and the noise made my hearing numb and my inner ear crackle; a weakness I blame on spending nights in clubs for a month in my first year of university. I bought a drink I didn't want and avoided the man asking for adoptions of guide dog puppies even though he didn't want to ask me. I must not have been his target market. As I walked the rain was like mist and the cold bit me and I was glad for the heat I had endured in the name of obstinacy. I was in a blur of hatred for all and myself. I imagined what I could say what I should say and how I should relay such dictations. I spoke viciously in length and I spoke without care as I left the room. I wrote emails in short hand and letters in long. Doctor's notes and complaints flurried in my mind as tiny particles of water soaked into my clothing. I didn't notice the strange men hanging about under the bridge and they didn't notice me and I swore to be better and to be worse and to resist and then I succumbed and the words formulated in my mind. I think I that I may have made a mistake in choosing to do this. I do not have the intellect, or the common sense, or the general knowledge, or the endurance. Into my vision came a two pound coin on the ground which I picked up quickly and kept walking. I held it in my hand until I reached the garage and as I walked up the hill I let the anger and the hurt seep out of me and the sweat and my heart rate burned and bitter tiny tears singed the rims of my eyes. I gave the coin significance and I told myself of the obvious problems other people had and convinced myself of my strength. I told myself that bridges have been burned but that this is for me. Later Stuart confirmed it. I re-enacted the entire meeting and I raged, but quietly, and I seethed, but softly. I placed the coin on my bedside table and I thought of the draft in my bag and I shuddered and I knew that the next few weeks would be sickening but manageable. Then we prepared dinner and talked of the important things and smiled, calm in the satisfaction of our own entirety being enough for each of us always.