I'm having difficulty blogging today. Most days this catharsis thing has been pretty easy - like the words wanted to come out. Possibly not in the order they arrived but hopefully my prose will improve with practice.
It's not like I don't have anything to say either. Although, while I seldom lack for things to say on pretty much any topic (I prefer 'loquacious' rather than 'mouthy'), the topic of myself is one that is more difficult to expound upon. I've spent so many years keeping personal things inside (deep DEEP inside..), revealing only a little to my closest friends and lovers, and it's a difficult habit to break. My current frame of mind just doesn't want to be exposed.
So I'll backtrack a little to clarify some of the more cryptic of my previous posts:
A couple of weeks ago (was it really that short a time? jeez..) the girl I'm seeing (I hesitate to use the term 'girlfriend' when the relationship is so new and, after the events I'm relating, who knows what will happen?) got pregnant. Hence the 'I am irony personified' quip: one of the reasons I'd split from my long-term partner last year was our irreconcilable differences concerning the having of children. I was (note that word) very much in the negative team.
During our delightfully stress-free breakup (ha!) she semi-joked that if I ended up having children with someone else she'd punch me in the face. I semi-jokingly agreed that it would be ironic - and also incredibly unlikely. Reminder to self: never tempt fate, you pillock.
In any case - it did not come to pass. The pregnancy was a wash-out (god, someone make me stop with the bad jokes, please!) (and the parentheseses) and, after a week or so of believing our lives had just irrevocably changed, things now go back to normal. How that works I've no idea.
The most disturbing thing about the whole mess was how calmly I took it and how relaxed I was. It was as if there was only one path to follow - which, in truth, was pretty accurate.
Choices had been made and I didn't have to figure out what I wanted to do with my life anymore. I found it almost a relief.
Which disturbs me and makes me question a lot of the assumptions about myself that I've made. I'm beginning to wonder if some of my introspection was simply an exercise in making myself believe something I wasn't that sure about. And I'm not sure I'm ready to dig deeper into that at the moment.
So the upshot is that I'm not going to be a father - and the budding relationship I was/am in is now permanently damaged (whether that's a good or bad thing I really don't know).
All this on top of the generally fucked up mental/emotional maelstrom my head contains has taken a bit of the shine off 2010.
I think it's time to get that back. With gin! Wheee!