Rule breaker

There is a woman waiting for the bus, much like I am. I say much because she's breaking unwritten rules. We, the would be passengers always look towards the bus. We await it's approach by staring determinedly. As if this would speed up its appearance. If we chat, our gaze is still on the arrival of the bus. We may glance down, text, Facebook, get vaguely lost in Pinterest but the focus never really deviates. The woman keeps glancing in the opposite direction. The direction I happen to be standing in. This is a tad unsettling. Do I have food on my face? Skirt tucked in my knickers? Mirror checking and shirt smoothing suggests not. Thus I have taken defensive action, I have applied my earphones. Earphones are a well recognised symbol of Don't talk to me because I am not a maker of small talk. Yet, as a breaker of social conventions, she'll probably say hello anyway. Ugh.

Yours,

The Antisocial RGF

Xxx

Third time lucky

I have written of my first and second love. These words are of my third. Not the third time I've loved, I've fallen in numerous times. But there are three significant times. I'm in third love right now.

There are moments with my wonderful third love where I'm so lost in emotion that it's overwhelming. It sweeps in and sends me spinning. It's exciting yet I feel completely at ease with him. This is what real romantic happiness feels like. It is largely perfect.

Nevertheless, in the background there's a nagging fear. Not born out of us or him but which was seeded in the past and has taken root in me.

I remember feeling a tremendous sense of security with my first love. We'd never break up. I knew this. Ours was a perfect love. I recall a female friend of his joking that even our bladder movements were in sync. My naive 17 year old self thought this was a sign. Moreover, I thought she was being sweet. In wise hindsight, she was poking fun at him, a timely reminder that asked did he really want a serious girlfriend in his second year at uni. Of course he didn't. When he walked me to the train station, on the weekend that she made this joke, I was firmly locked in a bubble of love. We were unpoppable. I didn't remember the fragility of bubbles. I didn't see any sign of doubt in his eyes. That weekend was the last time we spoke face to face. Though the dumping actually happened a few days later. If mobile phones were employed by the masses back then and if texting had been invented, he would have text dumped me. As it was, he payphone dumped me. I received the news via my parent's landline. I spent years after trying to unpick the memories. Why hadn't I seen the signs. If I'd known, then at least first heartbreak wouldn't have been punctured with first shock.

Subconsciously I guess I vowed that I'd be ready to face the pain next time. And I have been.  I've spotted all the signs, in all the relationships. I've second guessed. I've clocked things that didn't even exist beyond the realms of my paranoia. And I've definitely generated numerous self-fulfilling prophecies. I still do it now. Lost in love with a great man, who is in love with me. Even though he's kind and sensitive and full of compassion, I still brace myself for impact. It's a habit I need to break.

Though my first experience of love paved the way for my future. Neither history nor a crystal ball will save me from pain. They'll just prevent me from fully enjoying my love right now.

Xxxx