The Naughty Step

Tonight, I want to be Somebody's Somebody. I do.

When you accidentally (and trust me I didn't mean to and rather wish I hadn't) discovered your former lover checking locations on Google maps it hurts.

When she is still up and on her computer quite some time after she has said she would be going to bed - you wonder what is keeping her up?"

I hate myself.


I was never jealous when we were together, but the torture I experience each and every day is far beyond anything I have previously felt.

There were times when younger men than I would crowd around her trying to dance with(what was then) my lady. These days I am scared of shadows let alone threatened by younger suitors.

"I close my eyes then I won't see - the love you  don't feel when you look at me."


What romantic clap-trap that is.


Prince; trust me - the first thing to go is the physical relationship.


It cools quickly. Cools to such a degree that it feels awkward even considering touching each other in a sexual way.


That hurts too - where once the fires burned so brightly; so consistently. Now there are just the corporation signs prohibiting bonfires and the burning of rubbish.

Right now (and all of today - you see she sort of needed me last night - subsequently discovered she neither needs me nor wants me - merely used me as available labour - I'm riding the crest, as it were) I feel like I'm sort of 'sitting-on-the-naughty-step' of unwanted. 


Of course, at time of writing the  facts have proven this to be false; she needed me. For a brief moment. It passed so quickly.

For a moment. For that moment she didn't even mind being close to me. 

I'm kind of meh about Bon Jovi - like the hits, leave the rest. 'Always' applies to all of the un-resolved emotions surging though me.


Another track, discovered in the midst of another break-up (funny how Dublin Airport is always a key-player in my most serious break-ups) is 'Bed of Roses'.

The lines 


"...this morning I don't know.
Well a bottle of Vodka still lies in my hands
and some blonde gives me nightmares
to think that she's still in my bed;
As I dream about movies
they won't make of me when I'm dead."

No rock star I. Those events; whilst I (were I less of a gentleman) testify to their efficacy, did not happen all in one tale.  - Leastways, not in my life.

However, I have always nestled comfortable in the knowledge that cinematic treasures will not issue forth from me shuffling off this mortal coil.

You get to a certain age and you realise you simply are not James Dean, Pele, Bill Gates or Steve Jobs. 

 

Let's face it - if you enjoy the infamy of these guys, you are doing well.

This page is dedicated to you. Especially if you have come here still believing (despite not singing in a band nor playing an instrument, having any sort of acting role, being even considered for a photo-shoot) maybe, just maybe, you are the next big thing....

...YOU'RE NOT.

Alright?


But hey, at least your girlfriend isn't checking out the location of her next lover's farm.

But if your love life has hit that metaphorically savagely jagged reef. upon which mine has run aground? Well, what can I say?

Shuffle up!

Make some room over there!

Welcome to the disappointment.


- add to that I got so drunk I passed out before pressing PUBLISH POST. 


I have edited for sense and language but not content - if you read a drunk old fool - welcome to the disappointment.