After work on Friday I went for the now traditional drinks on Das Boot with colleagues. However, I was in a foul, foul mood because of various things that had happened at work on Thursday and Friday, and also a bit worried because Harry had said he wasn’t well and might not be able to make it as planned, so I’m not sure I was great company! I’ll make it up to them… but, to my relief Harry called to say he was coming after all so I dashed off to meet him, and together we headed into the sunset, general direction: my place.
Friday night was good; we watched a film (30 days of night) and had a candle-lit bath together and went to bed; a lot of fun and very little sleep, ha ha.
The morning after the night before was a bit different, though. Harry is very tactile and after 17 hours of it non-stop I’m afraid I was really beginning to feel the need to have two minutes to myself, without someone unendingly stroking my hair or running their fingers up and down my spine. I mean it’s great, but not constantly! So when he couldn’t leave me alone to the extent it took nearly an hour to make coffee (no exaggeration), and after very little sleep, my mood began to get just a little bit brittle.
However, as it was a nice day we decided to go for a walk along the river and enjoy the nice day it had turned out to be. Yet along the way another side of Harry came out that I wasn’t too keen on either; a somewhat relentless negativity about things: “It’s stupid to run a ferry when they could build a bridge”...“that’s a weird looking boat”... "what an ugly building”... "that’s a funny colour for a helicopter”...“it’s so noisy around here”... “she’s very fat”... etc, etc, etc.
I think it’s important to understand it wasn’t even conversational, just a litany of comments: after I while I really did have to stop and tell him to just try and say something nice! Nevertheless on we went to the Greenwich Heritage Centre near the Firepower Museum, where we also grabbed lunch in the Gunpit Café there, and enjoyed sitting outside in the sunshine.
When we got home I did sit him down and explain that he had been quite negative, and that was a little bit off-putting; he got quite angry with me about that but I also explained that it was also in part that I was tired and sometimes needed a bit of space to recharge my batteries. We talked it out, and certainly patched things up to the extent that we ended up in bed again! Essentially, though, we’ve decided to do more things together so we a range of common experiences and interests.
But even so Harry said he would go home rather than stay the night, and I walked him to the station - though we actually ended up having a really great talk along the way, - and he went home with us on still very good terms indeed.
This morning I looked at flats in Manchester for him. As he did too; we talked on the phone in the afternoon and I explained the flats I had seen were really nice and really inexpensive. I also looked at train fares to and from Manchester and even sought out suitable job. We also agreed to go and spend a weekend up there doing a bit of flat-hunting nearer to his move. In my head I sometimes catch myself questioning what I'm doing - we've only been together a week but (at the risk of sounding repetitious) it strangely feels totally natural to be contemplating leaving my home of 13 years, my friends and colleagues, the life I've built... because that's where he'll be.
As I was typing this he called again and we talked more about the places we could go and the things we could do – so later in the month we’ll go to the Design Museum and the Tate. I also want to have friends over for dinner as a thank you for having me at theirs for a house-warming; and I'm giving serious thought to a Eurovision party.
But first, on Wednesday we’re meeting again at the National Portrait Gallery to be followed by drinkies.
So, it’s a beginning.
One of Harry's favourites
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