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Reminiscing
She's been on my mind a lot lately. We haven't communicated much in the last three years. We intended to, and started with good intentions, e-mailing each other on a daily basis, but gradually the prospect of foregoing my seat in the union bar in order to spend a mere five minutes in the computer room became too unbearable to even contemplate. We should have at least met up in the holidays, one of the eight, for God's sake. But somehow, every one passed in a blur of drunken nights and lost days, and whenever I thought to dial her number, she was either out or asleep. It was the discovery of the scene that did it though. Not only were they tolerant of homosexuality at university, but they actually had a society for it, something that seemed unthinkable at school where you got beaten in for looking gay. But through people I met at university, I found out that my own town had a gay scene, something I'd been totally unaware of in five years of living here and at least four of wondering. It's ridiculous though, that we should have had so little contact since we left school. Unpacking my possessions after I moved in with Neil, I found so many photos of her and us together. Us on holiday in France with my family. Us with her family in Spain. Her with a sheep in the Lake District when we went on a random expedition when I passed my driving test. Us at the Leavers' dinner at school, arms around each other. How could we have spent so much time together then separated entirely, without even noticing. Without me noticing anyway - God, I feel guilty. She was my best friend. Maybe even my only friend, my only close friend anyway, the only person I came out to before I left home. My parents thought we'd get married, though. So did hers. I think even I did, regardless of my sexual orientation. But our classmates' beliefs that we were a couple were never correct, even when I still thought I was straight. I found my diary from back then while sorting out my possessions, too. It's juvenile, but insightful, reminding me of feelings I'd forgotten about. Tuesday 7th September First day at my new school. I think it's going to be ok though. In registration I'm next to a girl called Alice, with whom I had a good conversation when I first arrived. She's pretty too. Maybe I'll fall in love with her. In the great timeless words of Adrian Mole, "It's time I fell in love, after all I am 13¾ years old." Tuesday 21st September In English today we had to get into boy-girl pairs and co-write a sketch where we get engaged. Naturally Alice and I worked together, but we spent the whole double period talking instead! We have to perform them on Friday and they're supposed to be at least two minutes long, and it's back to reading "Z For Zachariah" in English tomorrow, and we don't have English on Thursday. We'll have to talk verrrrrry slowly. Or say, "Will you marry me?" Two-minute hesitation. "Oh, ok, then." Wednesday 22nd September Alice suggested going to the school library this lunchtime to write our sketch. But we got thrown out for talking! At least we were talking about schoolwork: the girls next to us were talking about their horses! We tried to do it (write the sketch, you sicko!) sitting on a bench in the playground, but Kenny and that lot kept telling us to keep our public displays of affection to ourselves, and kicking a football in our general direction, so we couldn't concentrate. So Alice suggested I went to her house after school tomorrow. I haven't been in a girl's house since I was about six, and I've never been in a girl's bedroom. Wonder what it's like? Thursday 23rd September Alice's bedroom was disappointingly like mine. I don't know what I'd expected - loads of make up and underwear lying around everywhere, I suppose. Anyway, after five hours, mostly spent talking, we got the script finished. We're dead proud of it. We performed it for her Mum and she had hysterics, but Alice says she has hysterics when she watches the weather. Strangely, I don't think I fancy her anymore though. (Alice, not her mother. Although I don't really fancy her either.) Perhaps this has something to do with the fact that she has a Michael Jackson poster? Friday 24th September Sketch day! Everyone thought it was brilliant and we got loads of applause. "When's the wedding?" someone yelled, which prompted our teacher to give us all more homework - write a sketch about a wedding. Oh well, I'm famous now! Went to Alice's again after school, supposedly to work on sketch, but we ended up mostly just talking. I think she fancies me because she kept looking at me, even when we were watching TV. I still don't fancy her though. Perhaps this has something to do with the fact that her favourite tape is "Take That And Party"? But as the years passed, she got into Blur and Oasis, and our tastes coincided more frequently. I loved her, but I could never go out with her. I don't think she was entirely happy with the situation: she never said anything, but it was always her that initiated hugs and made suggestive comments. Still, she once told me that our friendship was the most important thing in the world to her. And now it's gone, entirely. That's it, I'm going to get in touch with her. Now. She might resent me for being silent for so long. University might have changed her into an entirely different person: it's certainly done that for me. But we had a history together, that's got to count for something? It's worth a try, anyway. I pick up the phone and dial her number. I've still remembered that. Her mother answers on fifth ring. "Hello, is Alice there please?" I ask. "Is that you, Gareth?" she asks me. "It is. How are you?" "Oh, ok. Yourself?" "Fine." "Have you finished your degree yet?" We chat for a few minutes, but I glance at my watch and see that Neil's going to be home soon. Time to get a move on. "So, is Alice in?" I ask, at a natural conversation lull. "Oh. No, she's not. Er, she doesn't live here anymore." "Ah. Have you got a number where I can reach her?" "No. We don't, er, keep in touch these days." What? Alice and her parents aren't on speaking terms anymore? I don't believe it. What could Alice have done to put an end to such a good parents-daughter relationship? When she was eighteen and the rest of our classmates were going to Ibiza, we actually went on holiday with her parents. Yes, she argued with them sometimes, often in front of me, during her teenage years. When she went to a nightclub against their wishes (my idea, but I tried to talk her out of it when permission was denied). When she painted her room black (I tried to talk her out of it from the start, and afterwards she agreed that it was too gloomy). When she wanted to go to an East 17 concert but her parents wouldn't let her (I did my best to console her it wasn't the end of the world). Standard stuff, though. It's rude to enquire any further though, so I say, "All right" and bid her farewell before hanging up. It would explain why I haven't been able to contact her for the last few years, if she's left home, but why? Her parents are reasonable people. A little over-religious, perhaps, over-protective too, but what could Alice have done that they disapproved of so thoroughly? Turned lesbian? It's not such a bad theory, really, except for her total straightness. We discussed it a lot, really. "I wish I was bisexual," she'd say. "It's a lot more ideologically sound, to not discriminate against potential partners based on gender." Was it a dig at me for not fancying her? I didn't mind, because I wished I was straight. I had relationships when I got to university - actually, "I had sex" would be more accurate - but Alice was the only person I said "I love you to", until Neil. He should be home any minute now. I'll maybe make further enquiries about Alice sometime, get in touch with people we knew at school, maybe try and reach someone she was at university with, although I never knew any of them. But for now, Neil has my complete attention. It's not quite the same. He's the first man I've ever felt so comfortable in the company of, he's the first I've managed to have long intelligent crazy discussions with. There's something that's not quite right, that's hard to put my finger on. It's as if he's hiding something from me, even though he claims to have told me all about his past. But I still love him to death. And really, do you need anything or anyone else when you have love?
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