I love you?
I had a text from mum. I hadn’t spoken to her since she sent me the ‘I luv u 2’ text. I really didn’t know what to say and I doubt that she did either. It’s such a strange thing to say ‘I love you’ to another human being. It’s all been ladened with massive fucking heaps of meaning, that really mean nothing. I reckon Sash is the only person that she’s said that to in years. I say it to Sash and that’s the only time it feels right. I do love her, like more than anything. Obviously. I say it in that dumb throwaway fashion to Gemma and some other mates. It has less meaning then, it’s like confetti that you throw over each other’s heads. There’s no deeper shit going on than you are saying that you enjoy their company and that you hope to do so again. With your mum, it’s different though. Gemma and her mum tell each other they love each other every time they see each other I think, at least every time I’m there anyway. And as for saying to someone you’ve been fucking, well, I never have. I adored Sash’s dad for about 9 weeks but I never told him that I loved him. At least I don’t think I did. I look back at my long legged young Lenny and I wonder if that was love. I would never have said it to him. It’s way too big a responsibility to put that on someone. And I’d probably say it wrong anyway. It’s like saying thank you in another language. You’ve seen it written down, heard other people say it, it’s simple, right? But then you come to say it and cos you aren’t used to doing so, you trip over a syllable and then stumble blindly into a shit pronunciation. Anyway, mum wants me to Skype her at about 11am. Better put the coffee on.
I let Jimmy slumber on the sofa last night and I went to bed. I wanted to curl up on him but it seemed kinda non-consensual so I didn’t. Naturally, when I woke up he was gone and the silly sod had even tidied up some of the stuff from the table. I got a grumbling Sash off to school earlier. I had to try and keep her chin up by talking about how great it’ll be in Croatia, even though I have no idea if we will actually go. I have checked possible dates with her dad at least. He seemed fine about it, I mean why wouldn’t he be? I need to ask Jimmy to look at the flights and stuff. I want to go on a ferry and visit loads of the islands. I couldn’t stand to just be sat in or near a hotel all day. I’ll message him ‘Jimmy boy, no big rush but can you check out the flights for those dates I said please? xx’ he replies straight away ‘sure, I’ll look today, took today off in case Belgium overran’ ‘I’m Skyping mum at 11, wanna come round at 1 if you’ve nothing else on?’ ‘sure marth, see you later’
I wash all Sash’s mucky gear from her trip and have a toasted bagel with Aldi's own brand cream cheese, which is fucking lush. I think I’m getting fat. I feel fat. I don’t think I’m fat enough that anyone will notice and I don’t care if they do. Sash would call me out if it was noticeable. Gemma too most likely. I’ll be 37 soon. Perhaps I have just been getting away with it up to now. But I do feel bloated. Could be period, I’ve lost track this time around. I am eating so much though. I’ll need to do something like a detox soon. Or a massive shit, which is essentially the same thing.
It’s 11 and I flip up the laptop screen. I open up Skype and mum calls straight away. Her face pops up and I maximise the window. ‘hi mum’ ‘she’s looking down at her phone ‘mum!?’ ‘oh sorry Marth’ she seems flustered. ‘you ok mum?’ ‘yes, love, fine. It’s just that, well, something happened. Well, it happened 6 months ago but I just found out. I mean it’s my fault, I have a different number after that bloke I met at bingo kept texting me pictures of his willy and..’ ‘mum!’ ‘yes love?’ ‘what happened?’ ‘oh, yes, ok, your dad died’