Good luck and bad luck
I had a good day yesterday at the FunQuay beach, and a happy evening, nothing special, just MOTD and an exchange of brief cheerful emails with Steve as he worked. In Steve's late night long email, that he's made into his own special art form, he commented that I'd seemed happy that day, and that this had made him happy. Then he had doubts about the wisdom of those words, and by the time he'd got his taxi home he'd convinced himself he needed to email again to reassure me that he'd be happy to be with me whether I was feeling happy or sad.
I feel so lucky. The thing is, he didn't need to send the second email. I know by now, that on good days or bad he's thinking of me and loving me, just like I constantly think of and love him too. I've considered how few truly happy couples I know. This still doesn't stop me believing that a few people are just made to be together. I used to read crappy Georgette Heyer's Regency romance novels when I was a teenager, and the phrase 'Grand passion' pops into my head now, and with it the idea of couples so much in love they can barely bear to be apart. Some special love that it's hard not to shout about, two people who are so very good for each other, love that means so much, feels so magic.
So I want to celebrate my love for my boyfriend every day. We've been together for 5 months now, but in emails today we talked about 5 years. Right now it feels like the most likely reason for us being apart in 5 years if if one of us gets run over by a bus.
And I have loads of good things in my life, it's not just Steve. I'm exceptionally lucky in so many ways. I wrote a list, but I won't share it as it would make dull reading. But, yes, most of my life is great. But I still think of myself as an unlucky person.
In some ways, yes, I think you might say I'm unlucky. 2 Really Bad Things have effected me. I scrabbled around in my head to make it 3. Funny that... Because 3 is a more meaningful number? Yes, 2 seems somehow incomplete. It can't be 2, can it? But it is. Well there was one other thing... No, that was a Fairly Bad Thing, not really in the same league. So, it really is 2. So does that mean another Really Bad Thing will happen? Sometimes I do think that, think that I'm cursed.
But this is stupid. I'm not cursed at all, and bad things happen to lots of people. I'm not trying to say I'm special. It's just that when I was 20 I crashed my car, I gave a friend brain damage and scarred her face. So that was Really Bad Thing number 1. And that took a lot of getting over. And then that I'd allowed myself to get over it, that took even more getting over...
And recently Really Bad Thing number 2 has been bothering me. And I'm not listing it here, because I'm still working on dealing with this, and because... Well, just because. And you can't say I don't share with you, can you?
But back to the satisfaction of reaching the number 3, perhaps a better way to look at it, to satisfy that superstition, is to say that I've had extreme luck 3 times. Extreme bad luck twice, but in the love thing with Steve I've found extreme good luck.
I like to think of him as this number 3, he can be a completion to my run with Good/Bad life experiences. Now I can have a boring life. Now we can both have a boring life. Steve and I talk about this a lot. Our dream as a couple is to lead a boring life.
My only worry is that I might be wrong, what if extreme bad luck number 3 is still waiting? The worst that this could be would be Steve getting run over by a bus before we've been together 5 years.
Oh well, I suppose I'd better make he most of things now and just be happy. And I'll tell Steve to look both ways when he crosses the road.
I feel so lucky. The thing is, he didn't need to send the second email. I know by now, that on good days or bad he's thinking of me and loving me, just like I constantly think of and love him too. I've considered how few truly happy couples I know. This still doesn't stop me believing that a few people are just made to be together. I used to read crappy Georgette Heyer's Regency romance novels when I was a teenager, and the phrase 'Grand passion' pops into my head now, and with it the idea of couples so much in love they can barely bear to be apart. Some special love that it's hard not to shout about, two people who are so very good for each other, love that means so much, feels so magic.
So I want to celebrate my love for my boyfriend every day. We've been together for 5 months now, but in emails today we talked about 5 years. Right now it feels like the most likely reason for us being apart in 5 years if if one of us gets run over by a bus.
And I have loads of good things in my life, it's not just Steve. I'm exceptionally lucky in so many ways. I wrote a list, but I won't share it as it would make dull reading. But, yes, most of my life is great. But I still think of myself as an unlucky person.
In some ways, yes, I think you might say I'm unlucky. 2 Really Bad Things have effected me. I scrabbled around in my head to make it 3. Funny that... Because 3 is a more meaningful number? Yes, 2 seems somehow incomplete. It can't be 2, can it? But it is. Well there was one other thing... No, that was a Fairly Bad Thing, not really in the same league. So, it really is 2. So does that mean another Really Bad Thing will happen? Sometimes I do think that, think that I'm cursed.
But this is stupid. I'm not cursed at all, and bad things happen to lots of people. I'm not trying to say I'm special. It's just that when I was 20 I crashed my car, I gave a friend brain damage and scarred her face. So that was Really Bad Thing number 1. And that took a lot of getting over. And then that I'd allowed myself to get over it, that took even more getting over...
And recently Really Bad Thing number 2 has been bothering me. And I'm not listing it here, because I'm still working on dealing with this, and because... Well, just because. And you can't say I don't share with you, can you?
But back to the satisfaction of reaching the number 3, perhaps a better way to look at it, to satisfy that superstition, is to say that I've had extreme luck 3 times. Extreme bad luck twice, but in the love thing with Steve I've found extreme good luck.
I like to think of him as this number 3, he can be a completion to my run with Good/Bad life experiences. Now I can have a boring life. Now we can both have a boring life. Steve and I talk about this a lot. Our dream as a couple is to lead a boring life.
My only worry is that I might be wrong, what if extreme bad luck number 3 is still waiting? The worst that this could be would be Steve getting run over by a bus before we've been together 5 years.
Oh well, I suppose I'd better make he most of things now and just be happy. And I'll tell Steve to look both ways when he crosses the road.
posted by Jo at 12:50 PM
2 Comments:
Never mind this existential bollox Haslam, about luck coming in threes and lucky colours and all that shite. There are clearly only two things your readers want to be told about:
a) lesbo romps involving au pairs and
b) sociopathic five-year-olds
The latter in particular sounds a classic. An only child? Suffered rejection in the past? Have there been any dead cats discovered recently in SW17? I think we should be told.
But, failing that, lesbo romps will do.
Pete
I'm fascinated by the notes-on-the-door story and have considered volunteering for some private detective work, though I suppose that hiding in the bushes for hours or days just to catch the culprit in the act would get a bit boring if he\she didn't show up.
I'm impressed that Amy is taking it so calmly. However I can't understand this thing about brass rubbing. What's that going to reveal?
But Jo, you MUST keep us posted about the phantom note-stickerer. How ironic that a stickerer should target YOUR house. This sort of thing gives stickering a bad name!
DY
ps - thought of you the other day when I saw a TV feature about the Tube advertising on the future. Eventually paper posters will be a thing of the past and it'll all be LCD screens with ads that change according to the time of day - newspapers in the morning, bars in the evening. Alas the future of selective stickering is in doubt.
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