I woke up before sunrise today, and full of the joys of life. It was an extraordinary feeling, something I haven’t experienced in years.
I opened the curtains and lay in bed watching the sun kiss the sky with violets, pinks and reds. I made a deliberate attempt to notice things, like Amber did: the different types of birds that whizzed hither and thither past the window, the colour and style of the plants on view, the gentle sway of the trees in the breeze.
Yes, from now on, I'll take care to notice the wonders of the world around me.
I messed about on my laptop for an hour or so answering long neglected emails. There was one from an old school friend of mine who’d moved out to
G’day mate. Please wish your good lady a very happy birthday for tomorrow from me and mine. Hope she passes a splendid day and enjoys everything, especially any shagging you get up to. Although with you manning the controls on that one, she might not. Funnily enough, I know a guy called Alan Shagger here in
It isn’t even Mimi’s birthday tomorrow.
I wrote a quick email back, all the while Amber right at the forefront of my thoughts.
I tried to play it cool and not call her too early. I lasted out until 11.30am.
Amber answered, she sounded a little hoarse (a Shetland Pony?). A cold, she said, which had caught on overnight.
All that whizzing about in the cold in an open top sardine can, I said.
Whatever, she said...I said, she said, we said, they said. It meant she wasn't up for doing anything today. Sorry. She'll call me when she's feeling better.
I wished her a speedy recovery.
I called Tom. He was genuinely pissed off. Why hadn’t I replied to any of his calls and text messages? What had happened to me these last few days?
"Er...I haven't received any calls or messages from you," I said.
"Oh...well forget it, then."
We hooked up down The Fox for a lunchtime beer.
He didn’t know, it’d never happened to him.
“Well, it’s fucking happened to me,” I assured him. “Big fucking time.”
I explained everything about Amber, from meeting her at Jed's party to lying in a field in Somerset. I described her extraordinary beauty, her wit and her intellect, the aura of eccentricity that surrounds her, the magical chemistry between us, the way she’d made me feel. Her magnificent bosom.
I told Tom she’d made me feel alive for the first time in years, that I was convinced she was sent my way for a reason, that she was definitely the one for me, no question.
Tom muttered something about how he'd heard that one before.
I told him the next time Amber and I meet, I was going to tell her that loved her.
Tom sucked air through his teeth. “So soon?”
“Yeah.”
“Hmn, don’t know about that, man.”
“Why not? It’s true. Unbelievable, I know. But true.”
“Yeah, but the things is, man, women are insane. Absolutely no logic to their behaviour at all. In my experience, when it comes to telling them you love them, it’s imperative to get the timing just right. Tell them too soon and you’re dead in the water. Even if they like you, it puts them right off. They start seeing you as some sort of lovesick puppy-type figure that just becomes...annoying. It’s most unmanly. They like a challenge.” He drank some beer. “I’d hold on, man, at least until you’ve spent some more time together.”
Weighing all that up in my mind I've decided I'll hold on, not say anything too soon, until I can be reasonably sure she feels something for me too. I can't imagine anything worse that plucking up the courage to go for it, choosing an appropriate moment, looking into Amber's astounding blue eyes and saying...
“Listen, Amber. There’s something you should know. I know we’ve only just met and it’s probably rather sudden, but I’ve fallen hopelessly in love with you.”
She’ll stand there staring back at me, a look of profound shock on her face.
And she’ll smile at me after saying it, almost pleadingly.
And in that instant, I'll know she doesn't feel the same.
And I'll kneel down and gather the shattered pieces of my broken heart about me. Then Amber would playfully punch me on the arm and tell me to 'cheer up mate'. “It’s not the end of the world is it?”
But yeah, it will be. For me. Of course, things would keep going for a bit, but feel decidedly strange from then on. And slowly but surely Amber would cool off until one day, bam, she’ll just come out with it.
“It’s all getting a bit too intense for me,” she’'ll explain gently. “I don’t feel comfortable. Perhaps it would be better if we didn’t see so much of each other for a while?”
Then, the next time I see her, she’ll be out and about enjoying herself with another less intense more fun kind of bloke and I'll be torn to bits emotionally.
Tom is right.
Saying something so soon is just too risky.
I'll hold my time and bide my tongue.
