Date Friday 21 April Time 10pm
My thoughts and reflections:
I know I haven’t written in here for a while but, I haven’t really felt like it.
Honestly, I’ve felt like complete shit. The high of realising how Matthew felt about me once, followed by the crushing reality of how he feels about me now is like watching the dream house you’ve just bought disappearing into a sink hole.
Oh yeah. Dream houses. That reminds me of another manifesting failure on my part.
Our old family house. On a whim, I called up the agent – I don’t know why because obviously I was never going to manifest our old home but a small, desperate guttering flame of hope in me associates it with Matthew and clearly the Universe hadn’t already battered me enough yet.
So I called up and enquired and was told that the house was under offer and due to exchange shortly.
It felt even harder when I realised that the usual distractions no longer cut it…
Guy told me he’d decided I could come away with him this weekend to Rutland and said we would take his daughter to lunch.
Together. I didn’t even know he had a daughter, probably because he hadn’t mentioned it.
I asked how old she was, imagining a cute little girl, and he said she was eighteen. ‘Eighteen?!’ I repeated.
‘Yes,’ he said shortly. ‘We had a gap between them.’
‘You’ve got two children?’
‘Victoria’s hardly a child – she’s twenty-five.’
My gasp may have been audible. I’ve never been the best at maths but suddenly the age gap between us felt quite relevant.
‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘It sounds like a big step. Are you sure?’
Guy stared at me, shrewdly. ‘Well, Alice, judging by your reaction, it seems more like a case of are you sure?’
I stared back at Guy, hoping it would trigger some kind of emotional release from Matthew, put the genie back in the bottle, make me recognise what I had right here in front of me.
Guy Carmichael. My perfect man, exactly as I’d manifested.
Pretty much offering me a part in his life – the chance to meet his daughter.
It didn’t work.
Instead, it made me realise that things needed to come to a conclusion with Guy, even if it meant me losing my job.
He was understandably pissed off when I said so to him. ‘I don’t get it, Alice. I thought this was what you wanted.’
‘As did I.’
‘Unbelievable,’ said Guy, shaking his head. ‘Most girls bloody go on and on about wanting more from me.’
‘I know. I’m so sorry.’
Then the worst bit was when Guy changed tack and told me that we were good together and had I really thought this through. ‘I like you, Alice. Beyond the sex. You understand me. This works.’ He looked almost deflated and it didn’t suit him. Guy’s most sexy when he’s inflated.
‘I like you too,’ I said. ‘But I’m not sure you understand me or that it would keep working. What if I wanted kids myself?’
‘Do you?’
‘No. But I might. In the future.’
‘You wouldn’t,’ said Guy. ‘Certainly not after you’d met mine.’
‘But what if I did? Would you want that?’
Guy looked irritated.
‘Exactly,’ I said. ‘You like things how they are now. But I’m not sure we’d work in real life. If I’m completely honest with you, I didn’t actually like the mouthfeel of that wine last night.’
Guy told me that he’d be more careful about sharing his Chateau Margaux 2010 in future, that all women were a fucking nightmare, and that I’d messed up his plans for the weekend.
I said sorry and that I felt bad.
He said, ‘As you should. Sucking my dick might help you to feel better about yourself.’
I told him to fuck off.
And he said, ‘No, I think you need to fuck off.’
It was unclear all round whether either of us was being humorous; he’s not a big smiler at the best of times.
I guess I’ll be off to Scotland to join Charlotte next week…
My intention is:
To ‘surrender’ myself and accept that the Universe knows better than me what I really want. (But it does all sound remarkably similar to the argument Mum used to justify buying Arrie those NHS prescription glasses that Christmas.)