Margarita Tears

So tonight dissolved into a stream of salty, sad, tears. I didn't really want to go out anyway. I had been persuaded to come out for dinner by the man that I had dated after my celibate seven month 'getting over KP phase' - let's call him Mr Comfort. We dated from last September to this February, sporadically. I spent the first two months fighting the relationship out of deluded loyalty to KP and then I gave in...to hugs and comfort and feeling wanted again. Except, he never really wanted me. Six weeks after we met, he tore his Achilles tendon and my female instincts kicked in. This man needs me he can't shop, drive, go to work, live. I'll do his shopping, I'll pick him up from the airport, I'll look after him, feed him, be with him. All the female nesting instincts that had been banished to dormancy by KP's sudden departure became useful again. No need to tend the weeds in the garden or make the rented, shared, household resemble a couple's honeymoon home...this guy needs me. And he did for a while. Whilst he was on crutches, and he couldn't see his friends and he felt helpless, depressed and lonely. And then...quite simply, I wasn't 'the one'...in fact in six months, I wasn't even the girlfriend. And so to tonight...what brought on the sad, salty, tears? Well, a friend of his commented last Christmas, that I 'had to be careful', that Mr Comfort was not all he seemed. And a year on, I'm well aware that he is not all he seems...that there was, besides me, a Lara and a Sara and a Polly and god only knows who else. But Mr Comfort and I have become familiar with the ridiculousness of our relationship, the fact that I know what he gets up to and yet we still manage to maintain a close but mainly non-physical affair. However, tonight, I went out to dinner with Mr Comfort and this friend who had warned me all those moons ago against our relationship. And I brought the friend's Christmas comment up...in a jovial 'should have listened to you' sort of way...and when there was a quiet moment, the friend suddenly said into my ear, "you shouldn't have said that - you were bang out of order. Mr Comfort and I are close friends, we've had a brilliant summer sailing together and what you've just revealed jeopardises our friendship." Maybe it was the margaritas streaming through my blood...I don't know. But I couldn't hold back the salty tears. I wanted to irrationally scream..."do you know what I did for this guy?" "Have you any idea that I did everything for him when he needed me to even though I knew that ultimately I didn't mean enough to him?" But instead I went to the girls' loos and cried. And the other girl at the dinner...my friend, came and found me, weeping for everything I've lost and everything I haven't found. His words hit at the very heart of my loneliness and inability to find someone that will love me just for me and who will want to have my children and allow me to nurture and cherish and do all the things that my female instinct wants to do but can't. Because I'm just a single London city girl, finding that her lifetime dreams...can not easily be fulfilled.