Ez how you been? I am sorry it has been so long. In fairness I did announce retirement with my 2019 review and after the trial that was the year 2020 I couldn’t not fill you in on that experience. If you recall I initially put down the pen because I ran out of shit to write about… Though 2023 has on paper been one of my best for a while. I started the year with the goals of getting the most physically fit I’ve ever been, and progressing in my new line of work, I finished the year having been promoted twice and in June trained for and went the distance in an amateur boxing match… Aside from that to deal with the perils of age I eventually sort professional guidance for towards the end of this year. But for those in the dark since the last entry , I returned to work towards the end of lockdown and got trapped in the all encompassing, life absorbing world of hospitality management for 18 months – though it felt like an 18 year stretch and have since taken to a new indsutry where I have excelled and cemented a solid grown up job…. In short I have had nothing to tell you. Old father time has not done me well with this neither. The once gunslinging, swashbuckling prize fighter who’d always have a tale to tell of his adventures since you last saw him is now older, fatter and balder – and being someone’s Huckleberry for a rebound or sordid one night encounter where at one time was common place for my services, has now either dried up or doesn’t appeal to me or more to the point is now just a bit depressing at times. Literally anyone under the age of 25 looks and acts like a child to me, dating apps are essentially like applying for work and also are now ludicrously expensive. I recently had a shock when I went to sign for Bumble to find that the already inflated £12.99 premium was for just a week and not a month! Not something I am prepared to invest time and money into an already expensive world. So despite the odd American tourist booty call and small bundle with an old friend the sexcapades have all but dried up… As have the wild adventures to some degree.. This 33 year old body has been left battered by those stories and the ensuing mess they’ve left the state of my Gulliver in is atrocious now… Anyway I’m rambling as usual.
Truth be told one of the reasons I’m returning to the writing is not just because the hosting site that I paid the 5 year subscription back in 2018 was on the verge of deleting 10 years of work because the cheque bounced, but because plans are in the works to chronicle it all into a book, Like David Sedaris except I wont open up about all the gay shit and meth benders till the follow up book. So after reading back a few of my own favourite titles. I felt like adding another entry to the most consistent sub genre of my collection. That being said many of you may remember some of these stories as I would have dissected them in previously entries soon after they happened so will be for a lot of you a case of stop me if you think that you’ve heard this one before.
So in this next entry of ‘Women’ I’m going for a top five birds. I previously did do one similar about 4 women that were an inspiration to me in my life at the time. This one is about the meaningful relationships that in some way effected me – now close friends and regular readers will be aware that throughout my life I have never had anyone I would formal call a partner (though one on the list I’d argue was) my romantic relationships often have a shorter life span then one of Nurse Letby’s patients. Amongst those I have also had my fair share of encounters both brief and lengthy that were very meaningful to me and to qualify for that I mean that me and this person would have at points shared moments of tenderness and intimacy and would have at one point shagged. But whatever effect I had on these birds lives, they left some sort of lasting impression on me, helped with my development or helped me learn more about myself as a bloke. So lets get stuck in
5. Pippa
Pippa showed up in a couple of blog entries towards the end of 2017 and then again in my yearly review in 2018… She was my my last successful encounters on the now outdated and potentially defunct OkCupid dating site. I was living in the cheapest accommodation anywhere in the 4 zones of the city and potentially country. I had cushy job at the tax office with disposable income from a small time LSD operation I was running from my bedroom. Personally I was in peak form. Physically fit, spiritually tranquil and going through a period where I was one of the slickest gunslingers going – with the quality of the kills themselves being some real highlight reel shags.
For those who remember we had a memorable first date. It was the beginning of summer, the night of the 2017 snap election. Jeremy Corbyn was riding a left wing political wave the likes had never been seen for a generation and there was a sense of hope in the air. We immediately hit it off and after a few beers in the pub we moved on to kissing on a bench on the Southbank to her then inviting me back to her old mans gaff in the posh part of Lambeth no one ever has any reason to go to unless their rich relative lives there. By the end of the evening the exit polls favoured Labour whilst I polled her exit in a night that concluded with first date anal.
Aside from that wild night of rolling around in the much with the hogs. Me and Pippa never actually fucked again due to a current A-sexual spell she was going through. Though when I questioned how come she was up for it that night she responded quite cooley – ‘It just felt like the right moment’ Physically from then on we fuck the Armish way rubbing against each other naked whilst copping off passionately.
As people we couldn’t be more different – Pippa from a very traditionally middle class broken home up bringing and myself being from a boomer working class background. Our politics were basically the same but we would sometimes clash on particular subjects but the debates were often healthy and not arguments and in fairness to her she weren’t one of those stereotypical blue haired fat bitches that are so easy to make fun of. Though she did have some particularly dopey views and on the odd occasion had to be reminded of her privilege. Most notably an earnest statement she made about people in Israel – If the people of Israel do not agree with the regime, then they must leave the state out of defiance!… When I laid out how moronic a statement this was to make, how the majority of people do not have the skills, means, confidence, finances and support to simply up and leave their home nation like she does every year. She did kind of concede and admit to how foolish the claim was.
What was most bizarre however was Pippa’s complete lack of knowledge of pop culture. Which for my neurodivergent mind is a brick wall when trying to make any kind of conversation let alone emotional attachment to another person. But there was something about her energy that attracted me to her. Physically she was that cute kind of chubby with a pretty face, she was a laugh, relatively self aware but I think what kept me interested in her was that she found me so fascinating, which incidentally is where I ended up fucking things up.
After a summer of chilled weekends cuddling on sofas, dinners at new vegan pop ups, cabarets at the Vauxhall Tavern, trips to the Prince Charles and cycles around the canals – by the autumn Pippa moved on to go and stay with a friend in Palestine for a year or so. This was always her plan since we met so our time together was always limited. At no point did I ever have want, need or expectation for the relationship to go further then it was – our boundaries were unspoken, possibly made all the more easy by her celibacy and the fact she already had a boyfriend who I played pool with and chatted Simpsons with one afternoon and thought was a pleasant chap. We kept in touch through skype every now and then and there was even talk of me coming to visit at some point.
It was my 2017 review blog where I presented her with an inaugural ‘best newcomer’ award for the wonderful time we spent together. She graciously received it and during a conversation I popped the question of when would be best time to come visit her in the New Year…. All of a sudden her tone changed and she said shed get back to me. A day later I received a voice note explaining how the friend she had gone to visit had ended up becoming more then just a friend and a visit of my nature would not be appropriate. When I questioned how long this had been going on for and when I received the response of a number of months. But it was the retort to my query of how this had never been brought up during one of our countless conversations prior being ‘because you never asked’ which is when I admittedly, totally fagged out. I was enraged of the hypocrisy of this self proclaimed relationship anarchist with her preaching of ethical non monogamy suddenly forgetting the fundamentals of her own dogma. I regretted blocking her on all platforms whilst I went on a bender for a weekend to settle my seething nerves. In my defense I could have quite easily sent some black out choice words which would have been very personal and legitimately out of order… On reflection this is when I really should have called it a day.
When the dust settled a bit and we kind of made up Pippa explained that though she should have told me about the relationship – it was her follow up that to this day still makes me wince with guilt. ‘Sometimes you make me feel like I’m really boring’ referencing times where I may have zoned out and shown no interest when she went on one of her feminist tirades or even when she’d just be telling me one of her old travelling anecdotes or just anything really. It weren’t that I didn’t find her interesting because she was – she was a laugh and a I enjoyed her stories and yarns. I was just being a cunt and though I’m still not entirely sure why I acted the way I did I have a couple of excuses. Classism being one of them. There was times when Pippa would just mentioned some privileged she benefited from in life and would always follow up with a condescending apology that would wind me up to the point of having to sternly say ‘stop fucking apologising’… Regardless she didn’t deserve the way I treated her, I was the cunt there.
Our time apart didn’t help matters neither. Though Pippa (and indeed a number of birds before her) enjoy the Lahm Powder experience until they realise it aint an act. Conversing for several months trying to maintain a friendship with someone who’s interest you can see disintegrating with every dwindling character count in their responses. Then also trying to maintain said relationship when Pippa was living a sober life with a new partner whilst I was on a jolly in Asia drunk most hours of the day, often alone and needing someone to listen to my musings… I can imagine this acted as a major catalyst for her eventually telling me via text that she no longer wanted to have any further contact with me.
At the time I was unemployed and homeless so I had more pressing matters at hand then to give a shit about a relationship that had been in self induced coma for several months. But what gets Pippa on this list is that when the times were tender she made me feel unique. She had a fascination with elements of my personality that I hadn’t even considered before most notably how much of a cunt I could potentially be without really having any reason or justification for it.
I’m not sure what Pippa is up to now. I never felt any need to ever check in on her again, nor would I think she’d entertain the idea anyway. I do remember her talking about a windfall of cash from a trust fund she was due once she turned 30 which she had some hippy dippy plans with… Which must be a nice thing to look forward to. Yes I feel bad for the way I treated Pippa, but she had a lot going on. I’m pretty sure no aspect of our brief time together caused her to lose any sleep. I sure whatever she is doing now shes doing alright. I wish her well.
4. Aiofe
I spoke about Aiofe in my final entry. The Irish dime piece with the razorblade wit, peak level soundness and a vibe that sent shivers of joy through me with every ‘good morning :)’ text she’d send me. She was one of those Tinder matches where once the buzz of matching with a fit bird who then starts the conversationg began to wear off, I got an even greater charge when very shortly she turned the topic to sex and in the days when the blog was used as litmus test for birds I’d match with online the results of this one were potently positive. Come New Years eve we’d a date booked for February when she was due to visit London and come the early hours of the fateful year of our lord 2020 she was sending me shit faced saucy text messages. That year started well atleast.
We went on the piss in Dalston for our date, matching each other pint for pint, kissing on the high road, then raw dogging in a cheap hotel opposite the Rio cinema. The next day I asked what she told her friends she was visiting when they asked how the date went. ‘I said it ended with you slapping me around, sucking my toes and spitting in my mouth…’ I cautiously asked what their response was? ‘Jaysus! can we be friends with him too?’ they had said.
From then on we stayed in contact daily. She was the catalyst to the recovery of my morale at the time – being headhunted for a cool job and finding a new place to live. We were starting to make plans to see each other over the coming summer, I even had a flight booked to Cork to see my parents that March to see them before my new job kicked off. You know what happens next.
I covered all the following details in literally my last post so if you don’t already know what went down go read that. I never really could gauge what number of people were still reading, but I know one person who was. New Years 2020 a year on from a night of saucy texts received from a shit faced Aiofe, I gave a sheepish and humble words to the effect of – Happy New Year, all the very best with everything you have planned. Then in the hungover early hours of 2021 my phone shook my attention and the message ‘I’ve just read your blog’ had me vault upright.
In her message she relayed her regret at the way things ended. Admitting that there should have been more of a conversation about her recent change of paths, acknowledging my situation but still at the same time repeating that she didn’t realise I liked her so much. But signing off saying that she was pleased to have met me at the crossroads of her life that she did. These apology monologues are always bitter pills but this did offer some closure.
Now in the past and ensuing future I have had birds mug me off and even when the impact has been blunt force trauma to my mental state I’ve always recovered and moved on with particular ease. The memories of Aiofe however haunted me for the best part of the year to come – so much so for a while I’d be triggered cycling down Dalston high road, seeing the ghosts of that first date play out from the spoons to the seedy hotel room we shacked up in for the night.
Now I know the worst thing someone can do is reflect with regret on a situation you cannot change but for those ensuing months and probably even now as I’m writing I often wonder what would have happened if things were a bit different that year – If the world hadn’t ended and I wasn’t fighting my own personal nuclear war in my mind would our relationship have simply fizzled out naturally like they usually do? Or would I have had the capacity to fight for something to work?
There was a paragraph in the original blog that I left out of the last entry as I felt it too personal. Now that Aiofes memory has faded from lifes rear view mirror and because I doubt she will randomly decide to read this blog again after so many years I feel alright telling it… A couple of weeks after that first date we were chatting and she dropped a line that made my heart stop ‘oh I’ve been so worried I’m 2 weeks late’ Not knowing how to respond to this I had a flashback to that night where before we got down to business she whispered ‘Im ovulating’ to which I replied ‘What does that mean?’ and I was awash with guilt. The following message however was an all clear and was put down to some changing of moon cycle which again I didn’t really understand through the relief…. Aoife was a broody bird however, riddled with Catholic guilty and though 8th amendment had only been repealed a couple of years before the subject of abortion is still quite taboo for a lot of people in Ireland. I probed as to what she would have done if indeed that decision was to be made and she said she’d have to think about it… Despite the futility of lingering on the things that never happened, I dont think I’ll ever stop wondering what would have happened if events were slightly different between the 2 of us.
3. Rachel
We’re in to the big guns now lads. The top 3. I first met Rachel at BOOM 2014 though we didn’t talk much for the next couple of years Rachel was always one of the staples of this new crew of Nottingham mates I’d found, made up almost exclusively of fit good time girls. Now despite the pair of us chatting and partying at different festivals I always considered Rachel more of an acquittance. However this all changed one random weekday evening – Now I can name a few nights that rank up there with some of the best ever; Chelseas 2012 European cup victory, beating Arsenal 6-0, my first cup final. Festivals such as Glastonbury 2019, Bangface weekender 08 and so on. But it was one April evening that I decided to go watch Apocalypse Now at the Prince Charles, I’d never seen the film before and it was being presented in it’s original cinematic 35mm print. I was blown away by Coppolas epic Vietnam nightmare and as I turned my phone back on for an obligatory Facebook update about my experience I was met by 2 dozen saucy messages from a drunk Rachel who was very excited about my up and coming birthday visit to Nottingham… The vegan whopper had also dropped at Burger King though I could hardly enjoy it as I was still finding my thoughts from both the film and the fact that one of the fittest birds I knew, who previously had not expressed anything more then friendly banter was now insisting I come home with her after the club night for a birthday present in a couple of weeks. To be 26 forever.
Sure enough when I saw Rachel all dressed up as a pirate that night, I let Petch know that I may not be taking up the offer of his spare room that night, with which he gave words of encouragement. Then as the night was drawing to a close I noticed I’d not seen Rachel for some time… Then as chucking out time came I found her outside the venue, ketablasted to the 9’s being assisted by some friends to find a seat whilst she returned to earth… Evidently there was to be no Birthday present for me that night. Though Rachel true to form the next day did assure me ‘I would have sobered up’.
Though I now considered Rachel as both a friend and top bird at this point it wasn’t until a few months later when I first had her over for a weekend of summer fun that confirmed she was someone I wanted to keep about from then on. The morning after our first night together she turned to me with a serious tone and then proceeded to acknowledge all her red flags and a list of potential side effects of getting to involved with the Rachel experience. Up until then no bird had ever been so upfront and open about the perils of what entering their orbit would entail, but I had nothing but the up most respect for the self awareness and indeed the warning itself. From that point on I knew what she was all about and being aware of the risks of what I was getting myself into I could simply enjoy the ride.
The next few years of hanging out with Rachel through all the drink and drug fueled cross continent adventures felt like I was hanging out with rock star. She was both spontaneous and at times mysterious – often going off grid when her phone would break, then after a few months of not hearing anything she’d surface with a broken ankle from a dancing accident or just as I was travelling from Tokyo to Madrid for Boom I received correspondence from her asking what hostel I was staying in when I arrived. I came down to breakfast the following morning to find her sitting there announcing she’d got a ticket and a lift and how excited she was to be able to party with me for the next week. Throughout that week she introduced me to cool people and was as always one of the stalwarts of the party. Another time after months of radio silence I awoke one morning to a text out the blue that read ‘Its 3 years to the day that I pegged you’ which to this day still makes me snigger at the very thought.
But where Rachel truly excels (for me atleast) is how she can go from this coolest mother fucker alive persona to being your biggest fan. For periods during lock down Rachel would send me written correspondence sometimes just to tell me how much she loved me, so often throughout our friendship she’d compliment my looks – which by the way is not something many birds do for their male friends which they should really. It’s good for morale. She’d gather up crews to attend my Berlin parties and then flier the night when she was there. She’d introduce me to new people with the fan fair of someone about to receive a lifetime achievement award, then sometimes out of nowhere she’d blind side me into group sex would just generally make me feel very cool and attractive, which as I mentioned is a trait you have to be very lucky to find in someone.
Another thing about the Rachel experience was knowing that there was probably plenty of cunts out there who wouldn’t have been able to hack it. No doubt in my mind that a gun slinger as prolific as her has no doubt made widows of many men who have since turned haters – these men are to put it simply some bitch-ass faggots lads. You want to step into the ring with a champ who takes on all challengers you better come knowing what you’re getting yourself into. I always got the sense she ran by her own rules and you either accepted this or you end up embarrassing yourself.
The last few years I have not been in touch with Rachel as much as I was, for logistical reasons more then anything else. Though if I was to pin point my last opportunity to truly spend some time with her it was going to be the winter lockdown of 2020… Rachel had invited herself to come stay with me for the month of January whilst she was still furloed from her job – finally after the year that was I was going to ring in the new one with the world champion of birds, though as restrictions got tighter I got the call that she was unable to make it and that was the final blow of 2020 that finally reduced me to tears.
After that Rachel ascended the ranks at the hotel she was working at to management level, successfully leading it out of lockdown and thriving again I went to visit her whilst she was in her last weeks there and it made me smile to see her as this matriarch to a close knit team of hotel staff, cooking dinners for them in the house they all shared. As standard she was a hit the fella’s on what it is no doubt a shallow pool of quality birds on a near remote inner Hebrides island. What did make me laugh was that after a couple of years she then called in the calvary and recruited 2 more of the fit good time Notts gals to join the team. No matter the situation she would still never cease to amaze me.
One of the most fun, hilarious, loving and authentic individuals I have met in life so far. Who in my eyes is a role model for women. She achieves her goals, excels in her environments and does it all on her own terms and autonomously. Also though I think she’s hung up her pistols and mostly retired from the gunslinging lifestyle, if more women were as quick to the drawer as she was the applications for Hustlers University would soon dry up and the toxicity levels of masculinity would drop greatly.
I cant wait for what our next adventure will be
2. Deirdre
A blast from the past who featured very heavily in the early entries of the blog so much so I’m not sure what I can really add that I’ve not said at nauseam and though it feels like I’ve lived another lifetime since I last saw her, the influence Deirdre had on me is not something I can ignore which is why she ranks so highly on this list.
For those that don’t know I met Deirdre at university when she was on exchange from Canada for a year. I fondly remember our first date which to my measure was going just fine, enjoying each others company but with no real indication it was going to go any further, until I went to get another beer from the fridge and she said ‘Another beer? Are you going to be able to get it up later?’ a date or 2 later we became inseparable and even when she moved back to Canada we’d talk daily and she’d visit for weeks at a time for the next few years.
She had that hilarious fat bird energy nailed to a fine art, incredibly confident, intelligent, open minded and by far and away the most notorious and prolific gunslinger I have duelled with to this date. There are birds I have known in my life who may have numbers on their body count. Deirdr’ no doubt eclipsed them all fucking bodies and also taking their names in her little black book. Not only was she a sharpshooter but her gunfights were sometimes massacres. I’d ask her what she’d been up to or what her plans were for the weekend and replies such as ‘getting gangbanged’ or fucking about with some couple she was in with would not be out the ordinary. Even when she’d come visit we’d hit up sex clubs and sure enough she’d incite some degree of group sex all of her own design. Quite often when I was writing entries for this, I knew there was nothing I could do would ever top her sexcapades.
Now one thing I noticed is that birds with this sort of mindset would often be typecast as some damaged broad with quite clear daddy issues. In the 4 and half years we were together I saw no evidence to prove this. She had a very healthy and close relationship with both parents, often acknowledged her somewhat privileged up bringing and whenever I’d question in awe of how she managed to have so much fun she’d reply with total ‘because I’m hot’. It was this infectious confidence that kept me engaged for so long.
But what really kept her so close to my heart was that during those formative years of the early 20’s Deirdre was one of the very few people who truly got me. Back then when this blog especially was a big part of my persona it would get me into a lot of trouble sometimes with left wing groups and online angry feminists. Now Deirdre was herself an active left wing campaigner often travelling with her socialist group to different events, a staunch unshaven feminist, a sex worker and the most body and sex positive person I’ve probably ever met and throughout all these altercations and scandals I’d find myself she’d give me nothing but positive affirmations and also gave me a piece of advice that I practice to this day – ‘These people are morons, don’t engage with them’
If these fundamentalist liberals condemned me when they didn’t even know me whilst the person closest in my life who in truth was probably more a legit disciple to cause then any of them thought I was a good person, then I must have been. She taught me to fuck the haters and stay true to myself as the person I was was genuine and decent, because these cunts were mostly phoney anyway.
She advised me with women I was interested in and consoled me when things didn’t work out. She’d listen my problems in general and always have potential solutions or action plans to help me resolve them. She had my back and I could always feel the love I had for her was reciprocated.
Our final few months together were a mix of magic and frustration. Deirdre joined me on my festival odyssey in Belgium for Dour festival – where she donned the captains arm band rallying both myself and Petch around the festival site, acting as interpreter for all the French speakers, and genuinely being top tier craic when she was E’d up and tripping.
When we later met in Berlin she suggested we act platonic for that part of the trip as her primary partner was getting a bit jealous of our tour whilst he was away working at sea. Understandable though I couldn’t help noticing how I was the only one finding it difficult to keep up the act.
The final leg of my trip was a 2 week stay in Montreal, a perfect end to an epic adventure. However when I arrived Deirdre had found monogamy with a man she’d mugged off just a few months before. For the majority of my stay I found it hard to pin her down for a meet – with the reason being she was too busy. Then when we would it felt like I was hanging out with a complete stranger. This person who I’d been having a never ending conversation with for years was now reduced to banal and awkward small talk. When she cancelled a meet up to watch a Montreal Impact game – something that had great sentimental value to me as Chelsea legend Didier Drogba was now playing for the team, Deirdre being present with me when he scored the winning penalty in the 2012 Champions League final. I kicked off, expressing how she hadn’t made me feel very welcome since arriving in Montreal. Personally if I had a visitor arrive in London regardless if they were an ex partner or not I’d be mortified if they felt I wasn’t hospitable and would bite my tounge and spend as much time as possible with them during their stay. Deirdre didn’t do this and I last saw her when she dropped me at the airport for my departure. ‘Im sorry I was so busy during your stay’ said she. ‘Yea well, next time eh?’ Knowing full well that would be last time I would ever see her. The date was September 11th. A worthy omen.
Now as disappointing as things ended Ive never felt any ill will towards her. Even acknowledging at the time that Deirdre eventually mugging me off would no doubt be Armageddon, then when infact when it hit I was alright about it. I was in a place where I was very happy with the person I’d become. I’d just travelled the world alone with money I’d saved myself, I had no debts, I had a job and a house to return to, I had a solid friend group, I had projects that I wanted to develop. I’d got past the initial stage of figuring out what kind of person I was and Deirdre had played a huge part in that. As always in my infinite naivety I couldn’t see why couldn’t remain friends. Even during my stay I couldn’t understand why we couldn’t hang out, it wouldn’t have been weird. It was poor timing and that’s just the way it goes.
Without Dierdre there would be no Lahm Powder experience, infact I would have buckled from the opinions of internet people and probably reverted into some loser incel. During a time in life when I needed someone genuinely cool to affirm that I too was cool she was always first at the scene to deliver this pep talk and though there was times when I didn’t realise how important this was for me until I lost it, when I did I was well equipped to deal with what lay ahead and I will remain eternally grateful for that for as long as I live.
Some years later I got drunk and sent Deirdre a message thanking her for the positive influence she had on me during those years. I finished the interaction saying that I really hoped that sometime in the future our paths would cross again… I still hope that day comes.
1. Rose
Rose was another of the contingent of fit Nottingham birds I met at Boom in 2014. Though out of each of them there she was the one who when I first laid eyes on her with her pixie cut hair, androgynous beauty and shy demeanor – she looked like a cute teenage boy and at the time this was totally my type. My first thoughts were ‘oh my God who on earth is this?’ Even amongst the otherworldly women in eye shot at that festival, Rose was the one I couldn’t take my eyes off the most. It took to the final day of the festival when after what was already a life altering week that we both groups of friends met on the beach and Rose was quietly reading ‘The Wasp Factory’ topless. ‘Right I need to do something about this’ I thought. Though by this point I’d earn my badges as a gunslinger, I’d never had the confidence to attempt a duel with someone as fit as Rose. But after talking about books for a minutes I asked if she’d like to go for a walk, she accepted and we spent the remaining hours of the festival talking about subjects I don’t remember, looking at things I cant recall, until over a beer and kebab as the sun was starting to rise over the mountain I invited Rose back to my tent. When we got there and I went to initiate things, she stopped me and whispered ‘I dont want to do anything now’ disappointed but not dejected I rolled over and Rose spooned me tightly until the heat of the tent in the mid morning sun became unbearable. Of all my first dates if that’s what you want to call it, it is probably still the most significant. Rose may tell a different version of events, but if you want to hear her story she can write her own blog
Some months later I was to travel to Nottingham for the first time with Rose in my sites and in somewhat similar fashion to my expectations with Rachel it was me this time who fucked up, by swallowing a super strength ecstasy and proceeding to be sick all down myself and then be to wasted and comedown to be in anyway appealing for the rest of the weekend that Rose hosted me. From there on in however our time together was spent mostly having very splendid times together. One particular epic adventure being at Boomtown in 2015 – which I think you can read about in the archives. Roses presents usually came part of the Rachel entourage so for many years our time spent together was having really splendid times together – with my ongoing infatuation for her almost becoming somewhat of an running joke between our friends.
Regardless of Rose constantly topping the table of hottest bird I know for the last decade what really attracted me to her was that she always seemed to know whatsup and by that I mean she was just generally cool about everything and laugh everything off. Now dont get me wrong I dont think I’ve crossed over into total creep towards Rose, but she has been on the receiving end of a seedy black out text on more then one occasion and whenever I’d awake the next morning crippled by built and embarrassment she’d laugh it off. I never truly got intense on her with the feelings but for the couple of times I have she would always accept it as a compliment and would always say really nice things about me. Then every now when the mood was right we’d have a wasted hook up and that was as far as anything ever went in that regard. There was always a number of reasons why I never really tried to make anything work beyond the affectionate and at times hazy platonic level of our friendship. General life shit really – Either of us would be away travelling, shed have a boyfriend, generally living in a different city posed the main issue. But overall I always got that feeling that if I fucked it up and Rose didn’t want to be friends with me anymore then the risk of loss far outweighed the reward. One of the times I candidly confronted Rose about my potential chances and she responded that it was a 60% no…. ‘Thats a big ol 40%’ I replied’
It wasn’t until lockdown hit and Rose was one of the first people to come visit me that I discovered Rose’s defining feature and super power of being totally chill. Never have I encountered a person and especially a bird where I can just sit with them in tranquil silence and just be happy. She has this unique calming energy where I never feel like I need to be on, I dont have to be Lahm Powder I can just be myself, there is no pressure for me to riff or keep the anecdotes flowing. All my anxieties disintegrate I can just simply relax in her company. One afternoon we both lay there with defcon 1 level hangovers watching the Olympics, the sport in question being the Open Water Swimming Marathon – all 3 hours of it. But at no point did I ever feel bored, just sat in silence whilst our hangovers slowly scabbed over. From then on we’d make plans to simply hang out and these dates became the ones I’d look forward to the most on the calender.
Then of course there is the good time gal side to Rose, the one who never says no to a plan, game for anything and another bird who can breathe life into the embers of a party. Even at times in social situations where I can see Rose struggling she’ll manage to hold it together or find a way to remove herself from the situation without being noticed – which may not sound much but a bird with that level of control of whatever divergence or trauma they may be harbouring is a hard skill to master.
Rose eventually joined Rachel in Scotland with the same intention of saving for New Zealand and for about 18 months the reality that my time with Rose was limited loomed over me with a haunting aura. In that time however our adventures together were wholesome and memorable, mushroom picking in the highland mountains, walks on the coast and spotting seals, adventuring remote islands all to the stunning back drop of the inner Hebrides.
Then September came this year and it was time for Rose to leave. She was leaving from Heathrow so naturally I insisted she stay with me the night before and I drive her to the aiport the next morning. The day was pleasant as ever but melancholy as the reality of a life without Rose was becoming more apparent. We stopped in a pub for some drinks and I confronted her one last time with an expression of my feelings. Acknowledging how open I’d been with my feelings towards her throughout the years and how I never truly pursued it because the logistics of life never really allowed. And if now was indeed the time for me to move on from that fantasy, to which without batting an eye lid she confirmed it was – assuring me that though she loved me dearly, it was as a friend. I stopped myself from asking the follow up question of wheter there was ever time where it could have been a reality, but like I’ve mentioned previously there’s no point lingering on things that never happened. No version of the answer to that question is going to make me feel any better.
The next morning we woke at crack of dawn for the drive to the airport, with me setting my alarm 10 minutes earlier then planned so I could linger in one last cuddle – I’d never experienced 10 minutes fly by so fast. We drove in apt silence and then said our goodbyes at the drop off. I had nothing to say through the tears aside from assurance that I would come see her soon. I got back in the car and dont remember the drive back though it was no doubt in a flood of tears playing ‘April come she will’ on loop. That date exactly – September 11th, though this was by far the worst thing that had ever happened on that date.
The next week I was hit with a visceral state of loss unlike I’d ever experienced before. As previously mentioned I’ve been dealt some blows from birds in the past but it’s always ended with the referee stepping in to stop the onslaught, or me not tapping from the proverbial choke hold. I’ve always kept moving forward despite the crushing defeat. Rose leaving however was a knock out blow unlike any other – Youtube Dan Henderson KO’s Mike Bisping and that will give you an idea of how it felt. For the next week I would find myself spontaneously break out into uncontrollable sobs of tears.
Luckily however I was already in a course of therapy and I had a decent support network around me I was able to get it together within a week and start looking towards the future. I opened up a New Zealand savings account and now have that adventure to look forward to. That being said there is now realities I will have to be prepared for. It is now time to transition whatever spectrum of love I had for Rose into something more platonic. Upon my visit there will most likely be a bloke she is atleast seeing which if he is no doubt sound wont be a problem but another challenge to process. There may also be the reality that Rose has settled in this new life and that she may not have plans to return to the UK. Though I can commit to following her to the end of the earth, I dont think I can afford to do it regularly and again that reality of a friendship we once had becoming something logged to the archives is just something else I have to accept and process. During the time I’ve had to sit with the situation it weren’t so much the loss of a close friend that buckled me, but more the sense of jealousy that someone I knew who was knocking 30 had gone off to start a new life in a far off land. MY experience of that milestone was a lot different and filled with a lot more dread. Apart of my grieving process was plenty of sulking.
It’ll no doubt be difficult dismantling the level of love I have for her. It’s hard to stop fancying a bird who from her early 20’s went from embodying Wynona Ryder to developing into Sinead O’conner at one point and now developing into Sophie Loren who finds my quirks endearing and can make me feel so comfortable being myself without even saying a word. She was the first properly out of my league bird I ever took a successful shot at and to this day she has never grown bored of me. But I’ve overcome many challenges before and as long as Rose keeps putting in the effort to reach out to me I see no reason to ever stop being friends with her. There’s still so much of life left that I want to see with her in it.