I’ve been suffering from a case of bloggers block recently, I have so many ideas written down but have been struggling to actually finish them so I showed twitter a picture of all the half written blog posts in my phones notes app and asked them to pick one then I would actually finish writing it and publish it. @xxavgjoe was the only one to respond. Well apart from @bigolover but he just asked me if nudity was going to be involved, it is not this time.
@xxavgjoe chose the second note from the top all it said was “a very great and courageous…”
This post has actually ended up being a mix of two of the posts in my notes app.
The rest of the note that was picked said:
A very great and courageous man. He opened up for her a whole beautiful world, full of knowledge and thoughts and ideals.
Everything she knew or ever became was because of him. And she looked up to him and worshipped him…with a feeling she supposed was love.
It’s a quote from Casablanca, a film I have only recently seen for the first time., Ilsa says it to Rick and for some reason it really stuck with me. I think reminded me of myself and how I am in relationships.
So anyway recently I’ve become too worried with what people think of me, mainly what a certain guy thinks of me.
The Dark Mountain. I’ve been trying to think of an appropriate name to use for him on this blog for a while, after My Everest post and my last #SinfulSunday, i have decided that this is the perfect name for him. He’s big, he’s dark and both times I’ve seen him I’ve come home feeling like I’ve climbed a mountain, in a good way.
He was very shocked when I said I had never watched Casablanca. I’ve also never watched Gone With The Wind or It’s A Wonderful Life, which also makes me a bit of a cretin apparently. I can quote every Harry Potter film pretty much word for word so at least I have that going for me.
He called me a Northern Mongrel, which at the time I took as an affectionate thing now I’ve thought about it I’m not sure whether or not I should actually be insulted by it. Firstly I may live in the north but I’m not northern. Secondly mongrel seems like such a harsh word. It sounds like I was dragged up instead of brought up. I’m not a mongrel, I am from good army stock!
I spent the first 10 years of my life moving every 2 years or so as my dad was in the army. After divorcing my dad and moving me all around the south of england, my mum eventually settled in The Shire. I might not be from there originally but I spent my important years there, my teenage years. Those were the years that taught me all about life, love and heartbreak, the years I spent there moulded me into who I am today. So to me it will always be home and if anyone ever asks me where I’m from I will always say The Shire and be proud of it.
Bearing that in mind it does mean I’m essentially from a very white middle class town in the West Midlands, so when I’m compared to the scousers I’m surrounded by everyday I am classed as very posh, something the people I work with like to tell me quite often but it seems like nothing compared to him.
Lately I’ve been thinking that he must class me as his bit of rough.
It seems like we are from completely different worlds and no matter how much people say that opposites attracts, I’m just not sure. Obviously there is a physical attraction between us but a mental attraction, I dunno. I struggle to see what he would find attractive about me.
He’s earl grey, where as I’m a builders brew with one sugar.
I’m not university educated, I don’t have an intellectually challenging or well paying job, I’m not sophisticated or lady like in anyway.
I’m overly emotional. I swear a lot. I smoke a lot. I drink a lot, he likes to drink wine, I like to drink cider. I use to smoke a lot of weed and take MDMA quite often. I’m an army brat who knows a proper hard days work. I enjoy sending guys pictures of my boobs and I enjoy receiving pictures of their dicks in return.
I love rock music, proper heavy rock/metal music. Obviously I do like other music too. I may not dress the same but in my heart I will always be the dirty greebo I was when I was 15 and what’s attractive about that?
Ah 15 what an age! It was the age I first started smoking weed (I feel like I need to point out I stopped smoking weed at 21) drinking cider (at that age it was frosty jacks or white lightening, something else that TDM found amusing) I also lost my virginity at 15. He’s a couple years older than me but I figured out we actually lost our virginity in the same year.
I may often be depressed and have anxiety issues but this is who I am and I should not be ashamed of it. You either like me for what/who I am or you don’t and you judge me.
Or maybe this is just me projecting my own insecurities on to him. At 15 I never thought I would be where I am now. I never thought that at 18 i would be smoking too much weed that i completely fuck up my A Levels and never get to go to university. If that hadnt of happened I wouldn’t be where I am now, this blog would never of happened and I would never have met him in the first place.
Life may have taken me on a completely different path than I expected but this is the one I’m on and I have to make the best of it so I will enjoy it and enjoy him while I can.