So I hit my rock bottom and now I’m on the bounce back – into reality, that is, rather than into routine.
The pill (which I started taking two and half weeks ago) seems to be just about settling into my system. The moodiness is subsiding a little, so are the tears, but physically I am all over the show and I’m not quite sure what to put that down to – stress, winter, or hormone interference. Nevertheless I feel better after my aura felt severely threatened last night after being criticised for “beginning to turn black”. Hazuos! Black! Now we can’t have that, can we.
4:30am. What am I doing! I have essays due in, teaching to do tomorrow and football to watch down the bar but I can’t help myself. There is more to being sporadic and risky than catapulting yourself out into the Indian desert somewhere and waiting for some magic to come your way (or perhaps more likely, a pervert). It’s about Wheatabix for dinner/breakfast, sleeping in your jeans and thinking about good, simple stuff at times when you’re feeling a little on the alone side of life. Put essays into perspective. Even if you’re smart, even if you want to do well, you can sacrifice the occasional one for a bit of soul-soothing. And put sleep into perspective – it can wait until the morning.
Phú is doing a business project on Thornton’s chocolates so I sent him a bunch. You see, I prefer to think of my aura as being a dark, seductive brown with a creamy strawberry centre, rather than BLACK. My message – oh all the choices – “Good luck with your studies. I love you. Lizi xxx” I thought about sticking a ‘sugar’ or a ‘honey’ in it, but last week I sent my lover a saucy (and slightly over-sentimental) letter with the word ‘Love’ tattooed across the top and his mates had a little giggle at him in the kitchen. All a bit of Phún and Phú takes those kind of Phíngs well because he’s a conPhídent kinda guy, but this week I’m going for simple & stylish. Thornton’s baby! I think I’ve reached the height of my sophistication.
Little treats and surprises go a long way when you’re in a long-distance relationship. Creativity pays, it’s not just about cash. Phú’s great with his early morning text messages and his late night picture ones, “goodnight sweetheart”, with the photos of him smiling and sleeping. He arranged a surprise drink up for me when I got back from travels and weekend with me by the sea (complete with a rose, a toothbrush and a Vietnamese football jersey) and if we’re getting onto the really big stuff, he turned up in a Leicester Subway one afternoon with a Nina Simone CD, an i-pod nano with ‘Phú and Lizi 11/02/06’ engraved on the back, and some kinky Ann Summers wear…all of which, I must confess, added up to a hell of passionate weekend. But most of the time we’re just chimpin’ around, playing pool or snuggling up or penning silly songs about the monkeys in the trees.
He’s coming up this weekend. I’ve ordered two books in preparation – ‘The tao of sexual massage’ and ‘Sinful sex: the uninhibited guide to erotic pleasure’. I don’t really have all this cash to be splashing about, especially just before Christmas, but now that I have this unofficial, under minimum wage job of tutoring an international student English I have at least started to feel like I have the right to spend at least something. Especially when millionaire tigress across the hall goes out for a bit of Gucci action every weekend!
I’m optimistic that this Christmas there is going to be a reason for it to be good again. I know that this may sound a little premature, but Phú makes me feel like I have a family again. Since mum died Christmas has been a grinding endurance test. But I guess what I am feeling now is that the playful kind of love has come back into my life, and I actually believe that this year is going to be good. Maybe not the whole lot, but a whole lot better.
Phú and I are looking to do some volunteering with Crisis over the period and I think that in particular will be real special. Then again, sharing life with him generally is.
