option_a

I have a real crush on another SG member, and I think she probably knows about it. If I was single I'd be asking her if I could take her out for dinner one night or something... right... now.

Anyway.

Four years ago I split up with my first serious girlfriend - Let's call her "b". We met at an under-18's club night - I was 16 at the time, but little did I realise that the average age at this place would be 13. She was 14 when we met. I was supposed to be going to meet another girl there but we both bored each other's faces off, so predictably nothing happened there.

We'd first spoken over my friend's phone after I'd answered it due to him being downstairs - completely innocently, I might add. He was going to this night - she invited me along, and he didn't mind... so, great. I'm not sure what my hair was like at the time, but not quite so bad, either way... I remember hearing that my friend had pissed B off a few days before by playing Slipknot's first album down the phone to her for three hours straight. Whenever she put the phone down, he didn't - and when she picked up again to dial out, all she got was Corey Taylor babbling unintelligably. Wonderful.

I went to her house a few times - we sat and watched a Pink Floyd video in her lounge, which was a really nice experience. We didn't sleep together, although we tried - wasn't aware that it was illegal at the time, and I was pretty damned nervous and... yeah. Anyway. Was nervous because like I said in my last entry, I was never very popular with anybody, never mind females - so to find myself lying naked on my bed with a rather stunning girl, also naked, next to me was a very surreal experience.

I used to collect money for the local paper company at that time. I liked to think of it as "Debt Collection", becuase strictly speaking, that's what it was. Requesting 1.50 a week off old ladies isn't really the job of a real debt collector though. This isn't really important to the tale of B and myself, besides the fact that I remember cycling down a road I'd never been down in the rain one day and feeling like I'd had enough, that I wanted out. I still to this day do not know what I was thinking at that moment... impulses reigned, however, and I called up and told her later that night.

It was horrible. Anyone who's ever made the move in a breakup should know that. What's worse is that I don't know why I did it - Today it gets put down to excessive arguments, but I know full well that wasn't the case. Being half-an-hour's drive away wasn't great though, especially as neither of us could drive.

We met up almost two years ago. I think she'd taken drugs, her face was slightly drawn-out and she'd somehow managed to lose her chin, it appeared. We had a drink together in an underground pub and spoke about the past, the future and the fact that she had one-night stands with the same bloke every time she went out.

I didn't make any apologies that were due. It was obvious that they wouldn't have made any difference to anything - but when she gave me a hug before we parted ways for probably the last time ever, it reminded me of what a sore mistake that phonecall was.

We didn't split up because of a slanging match or anything. "Or anything" being the focus there. Perhaps going out with a bang (um, I am aware that can be taken out of context - don't remind me) would have felt worse at the time, but at least I'd not be facing unanswered questions now... the most predominant being "what if?".

You learn from your mistakes, they say. I made enough during that relationship, especially the time when she secretly got me drunk on vodka and I suddenly came over all sleazy. I remember that and shudder. Youthfulness is not always good.