That’s Stella

I was avoiding phone calls all Saturday. I turned my cell phone on silent and tried to get some sleep. I’ve got a nasty cold and couldn’t get a wink of sleep all night. Anyway I see my cell light up and see it was a private number calling. How mysterious. I let my voicemail get the call, but I couldn’t bare the mystery and minutes later I retrieve my voice messages and it’s a familiar voice…

Hello Stella. Guess who’s back in town!

The familiar voice on the other end was none other than one of my best friends from London, Mr. Right! That sneaky so and so! He slipped into Perth without telling me – I love it! I love surprises! He lived with me for a month in New York and I stayed with him in London two years ago – and that was the last time I saw him. We always managed to keep in touch, even if it was half yearly phone calls.

I caught up with him today over a hot chocolate and yummy food in Mount Lawley and I have to state the obvious and say it is SO good to have him back even if it is only for a few weeks. It’s like he never left.

Anyway other than surprises, I have to share with you another one of my favourite things in this funny world of ours…

I took a sickie from work and was taking an afternoon nap when my slumber was rudely interrupted by the shrill of our phone. I answered the phone and it was a telemarketer claiming they could slash my phone bills in half. I said I wasn’t interested and hung up. My mom came home and I had a winge about the unwanted phone call and said
“I’m so sick of people trying to sell me shit!”.
My mom said “Right.. and this is coming from someone in advertising”.

My friends and I had a big night out a few weeks ago. But I went home early and a few of the boys continued on into the night and dropped a few pills. Anyway in the morning we all met up for brunch. I picked up the lads and upon deciding where to head for brunch, my sidekick boy at work, who is regularly into his ‘substances’ as he likes to put it says
“I say we go to that new organic café. These new organic cafes popping up around the city are fantastic because you know, people these days are just putting crap into their bodies. It’s ridiculous”.
And after he said this, I laughed so hard.

What do these two situations have in common?

That my dear friend is irony.

And you gotta love it!

I spent my Saturday In The Pines – a yearly local music festival held under the shady pines at UWA. There was an eclectic crowd parading their fashions. Girls in their 60’s shift dresses and tights. Boys in their skinny leg jeans and ray bans and flannel and cow boy shirts. Pwoar! I was so inspired by the scene and personalities and get ups that it took me some restraint to not get out my sketchbook from my bag. I wanted to hide in a dark corner where I couldn’t be judged and draw! I would’ve taken happy snaps if I had mastered the art of taking photos without people noticing. My friends kept plying me with beer that I soon forgot about all that anyway. It was getting a little ridiculous. Before I even finished one, I had another cold one in my other hand waiting to be consumed. My bestie was witness to the constant boozing. If I hadn’t ‘accidentally’ misplaced my half consumed beers I would’ve been well and truly trashed. I was a little paranoid about keeping sober in case I bumped into Hot Rocker. I didn’t want to do anything stupid and keeping sober was the only guarantee I wouldn’t do anything drastic.

My boy friends have been so keen for me to get over Chris that they’ve been trying to set me up with their friends. I mentioned that I thought a guy from one of the bands playing was a bit of a hottie and the next thing I know, as soon as the guitarist went off stage, I see my boys having a beer with him! They called me over but I was so embarrassed I ran away looking for one of my girl friends.

Even since that night when Chris busted any notion that we’d get together, I can’t stop seeing him. I want to see him all the time. I want to spend every night with him. My whole weekend. Every time I see him I pray he mentions something from that night. Something along the lines of “Wow I was smashed at that party. What I meant to say was how much I think you’re the bees knees and I want you!” But it’s like that night never happened. Not a lot has changed, except he has put an end to kissing. He was always the initiator but my confidence is so bruised that I wouldn’t dare make a move. I miss that excitement before he leant in for a kiss. Booo….

I don’t know why I can’t stop seeing him. I suppose there are a couple desirable outcomes. Firstly, by spending so much time with him, I get to know him more and realise how much of an asshole he really is and get over him. Or secondly, the more desirable outcome, we spend so much time together and he realises just how compatible we are and age really doesn’t make a difference.

I picked him up from work a few days ago and on the drive to his agency I kept thinking about what we would’ve been like as a couple. Whether we would’ve ended up living together? Who would’ve been the cook? Who would’ve been the cleaner? We work down the road from each other – would we go in the same car? Would he drop me off at work and pick me up? Or would he force me to drive myself to work because I’m constantly late?

I have gone insane and all this really doesn’t matter. But a girl can dream.

Two days after our date, we met again at our friends party…

It was a massive party. There were people from all walks of life there. There were celebrities, rock stars and joe blows. But as far as I was concerned, it was just me, Chris and the boys.

Our mutual friend told Chris I had a crush on him. He said “I know” and smiled.

Someone interrupted their conversation and our friend couldn’t read if his smile meant there was a future.

I got really drunk and sneakily tore him away from the boys club for a private chat.

I said to him…

“I know you think I like you. But I just wanted to let you know that I think you’re a complete wanker”.

He was silent and had a straight face.

Not the reaction I was looking for.

Then he laughed. There it is! Just the reaction I was looking for.

We talked about US.

I told him I liked him.

Then came the bombshell.

He said… “You need to get over me”

I felt like I made the wrong decision having the truth talk.

I laid my cards on the table and I never would have told him how much I liked him unless I thought it was reciprocal.

In fact – this was the first time I laid my cards on the table since I was 14 and snared my first boyfriend.

He didn’t say nothing would happen – hell, it’s already started – but he kept saying I needed to get over him. To forget him. For us to go back to just being friends.

I clung to his arm, holding him tight, waiting for him to tell me he was joking,. Or to tell me that something would happen but he just needed time. Or that he was gay. Anything to make me feel better about the situation.

I felt pathetic. I couldn’t believe how quickly dynamics had changed and I was clutching the arm of someone who had always been the initiator.

I wasn’t willing to let go off his arm till I heard a satisfactory answer.

I asked him why he was doing this. Why he was going back on something that had already started.

He said that 90% was the age difference. That our 16 years age difference was “really wrong”. He just kept repeating… “really wrong”.

Really wrong. Really wrong. Really really wrong.

I told him that I could offer myself to any other 38 year old and they would jump at the chance to be with a 23 year old and that he was insane.

Yeah call me cocky.

I told him that he was a ‘complete dickhead’. He agreed and laughed. It wasn’t meant to be mean. It’s the truth.

I said he was a ‘cocky wanker’.

An ‘obnoxious creative’.

I said he wasn’t even my type.

That I had gone insane by liking him and that for the past week I had been sticking up for him whenever anyone was bagging him because he made an obnoxious comment in front of 800 people and got a lot of flak for it.

The rest of the 10% was the bombshell. He was sleeping with a married woman.

I tried to convince him that I could do a casual thing.

He said he knew I couldn’t.

And he was right.

We talked and talked. Saying the same things over and over. I hoped that the more we kept talking the more he’d realise what a mistake he was making.

I wanted us to sit down with a coffee in hand and have a deep and meaningful but we were at a loud party and I was drunk and he was drunk and all the boys were looking at us knowing exactly what we were talking about.

It sunk in and my heart broke when I let go of his arm and he walked away.