X called me last night. All the way from Timbuktu, displaced by several lat.s and long.s of distance and time.
X was all choked up and I nearly jumped through the phone to hold him and hug him tight. My arms, frail though they be, can hold a man thrice my size and not let him buckle [fark off He-Man]. So I discovered last night.
My heart is racing, thumping, jumping.
“H, babe, I’ve done the craziest thing ever H, I don’t know what I’m going to do. Hhhhh”
Okaaay. Cough it up man. I’m going crazy here. But I wait patiently. My voice does not betray concern, fear, anxiety or anything else that I’m feeling right then.
Has he killed someone? Has he hurt someone? Has someone hurt him? Damn. Damn. Damn.
“Hhhhh” he moans on.
Get on with it fucker.
“Ok. Babe, you can’t tell anyone about this. Not just yet.”
Who will I tell X? And how can I tell if you don’t open your bloody mouth?
“H, I’m in love. And she’s asked me to marry her. N’s asked me to marry her H. Man I’m so fucking madly, badly, hopelessly in love and I can’t tell a fucking soul about it. You’re the only one I can talk to H. I’m so happy H, I don’t know what to do. I’m roaming the streets of Timbuktu like a deranged destitute… I don’t know where to go. She’s travelling. Hhhhhhh and I’ve Said YES, and suddenly I feel like I don’t have a home, till I’m with her”.
X is in Love. Hmm.
And he’s said Yes.
And I’m the only one he can tell? Hmmm. I thought we didn’t get each other. I thought there were too many funda-farkin’-mental differences between us… I thought … Never mind. Focus.
X moons on “28 years of my life, H, 28 years of a fucked-up childhood, worse adolescence and a slew of bad whoring later-years have led up to this moment… and everything’s worth it. Just for this one moment! I’m sunk. So happily shamelessly, unabashedly sunk. She’s got my number H, and she’s completely ripped me.”
I’ve not seen [technically, heard] him like this ever. He sounds… not like himself.
“You know H, she’s older than me. But she’s so wonderfully simple and childlike. She gets me like no one else. She just knows what I’m like inside. She doesn’t care that I’m the most anal screwed-up bastard on earth… she just loves me. My little elf N, she loves me and she wants me. Like no other woman’s ever wanted me. H, I’m so happy!”
I can tell X is really happy.
I blink. Something’s stinging my eyes.
“Bastard, you’d better stop screwing around now, or I’ll pickle your testicles in formaldehyde.”
I dispense my older-woman [slightly older, but in-this-situation-vehemently-older] advice to him with steely gritty arse-busting toughness, but inside I’m all melted up. It must be love. The way he describes it. It. Must. Be. Love.
“No more flirting with random blondes in sleazy bars. No brunettes either, or Poles, or Japs, or hot Canadians…” I shut up. The list could actually go on, and on and on… and I’m beginning to sound like an ass.
“Bastard, I mean it.” I say one last time, so he knows I mean serious business.
X trips up on himself “H, I swear babe. I swear… I’ve been the biggest whoring bastard ever, but this time. Man, this time, is like no other time ever. I promise H, I promise. N is like no other woman I’ve known”.
I smile, and sniffle and give him a big hug.
“I’m so so so happy for you X.”
“Thanks H, I knew you would be. Listen, I have to go now. Bye. I love you.”
I love you too X. I hope you’re happy this time. Truly.