So, for too long now I’ve been too scared to continue this story.
Not because I worry about what people might think, but because I’m worried about the effect it will have upon myself. I’m at a stage now where I’d be writing about experiences and people from my very recent past. About people I still know and welcome into my life and about wounds that have only recently healed.
It makes it difficult to be objective, to stick to the facts and to filter out the bitterness that was left from my most recent betrayal. It’s taken over a month to continue, a month that has seen me reach new highs personally and I’ve taken some time out to really enjoy life. A short period of time where I have secured a new position at work, made new friends, found new hobbies and generally had a blast and to really put life in perspective. Now I’m ready, ready to say it like it was and move on.
It was 2012 and life was looking good for me. I was fairly certain I was over whatever had happened between Lara and me. I was resigned to the fact that Heidi, Carl and I would no longer remain friends. I was in short, moving on. Lara had been a part of that, so had Sophie and Dana. I was having a great time, on the surface. If you were to examine closely you might have noticed that I’d never really healed, rather just powered through it all.
The mess and destruction that was left behind after the end of what Lara and I had shared was too complicated and too bothersome to work through. So I rolled over and let her have it all. I let her have the holiday to the Canaries with our friends, I let her have our friends. I severed all ties just in the hope that I’d get my fresh start. It was a scary and bold move but I did it.
The next step for me would be to make some friends, real ones, here in London and begin my new life. I didn’t really know how I was even going to make that happen. Lucky for me my new housemates were happy to help with this recovery period. After a couple of months they had called me out on my habit of going home to Somerset most weekends and said if I was ever going to really give life in London a chance that I’d stay a weekend and put myself out there, start enjoying life.
I tried putting myself out there, which as I’m sure you’ll remember resulted in encounters like Spanish What’s her name and such. I went on dates, plenty of them. There was a dinner out with a polite young lady called Caz, there was just no attraction for me. There was dinner and the cinema with Louisa in leicester square and then there was Adelle who took me to hip-hop karaoke which was a lot of fun, but still that spark was always missing. Maybe I just wasn’t ready for any of it? Who knows.
It took time but before too long I had been talking to a girl on Gaydar for a while. Rather than make plans for any type of date we had talked about friendship. Katrina invited me out to a night in Soho with her and a group of friends. I might not have realised it at the time but that was exactly what I was missing, friendship.
We met at a pub in Soho and there were about six of us all together. Most of us were meeting for the first time. For me, it was the first time I felt like I was really making a life for myself here in London. It was the new start that I needed. For the first time in a very long time I didn’t care what was happening back in Somerset, I didn’t need to be a part of it. My future was unknown and only just beginning. That was both scary and exciting. I could live with that.