Sunday on Southbank

I woke up feeling ok-ish. Trying to feel better than yesterday. 

I suppose I thought I'd feel 100% better by now, but I don't and was reminded again why. 

Lots of thoughts tumbling around in my head. If only I.... What if I?..... I could have.... Maybe I should?..... 

I decided to tackle my fence again in the afternoon. It was quite therapeutic and peaceful. I spent an hour or so there, stood back and surveyed my efforts. I wasn't sure I'd chosen the right colour. Then I liked it. But then I wondered why I'm bothering. I'm never there, I could give it all up. Maybe the next owner will appreciate it more than I do. Maybe I have realised that people are more important than things, that you can't replace them. I know that for sure. 

At different points today I had a lump in my throat, and just felt blue. I had date in the evening which I wasn't sure I wanted to go on, thoughts compounded by my mood. It's a strange world, that of dating, and one I am reminded each time that I don't want to be part of. 

I was pleased in a way that it actually got off the ground, most don't. It's very disposable. You match, you chat, it dwindles, and you'll likely never meet that person. And you quickly forget about them.

We met at Waterloo, and had planned to have a wander along Southbank. The sun came out, and it was really nice. And it was Sunday, relaxed and busy at the same time. We went to Mondrian, only I didn't realise until I looked at the photos later. We talked, had nice cocktails. After an hour I was expecting him to make his excuses, but instead he suggested we go to dinner. I was trying to gauge what it meant- maybe he liked me, maybe he wanted a dinner companion. 

He suggested walking to Covent Garden to Franco Manca, a pizza place I'd not been to before. He's Italian. It was a nice, and familiar walk. For me it brought up memories. Of walking with T, with his friend O when she came to visit for the weekend. That weekend, last May, we sat at Gordon's Wine Bar, and then indulged at Five Guys. Happy times. Feeling T's hand holding mine. 

We chatted and walked. It was a nice restaurant. Lots of families with small children who were well behaved and used to going out to eat. I don't normally eat on dates, but I've got better. It was very pleasant. I hadn't really eaten all day but I managed half a pizza, even though I hadn't wanted to whack up my carb intake. It was nearing 10pm as we strolled back over the bridge to the station. 

He kissed me on the cheek and said we should keep in touch. I'm not sure what to make of it. It was strange, as every time I walked behind him, I saw T. The same tall frame, jeans, even similar shoes. He even works for the same company and lives almost in the same place as T does. T always used to say to me, "let's stay in touch" when we parted, meaning we would decide what time to meet tomorrow and our plans. 

I quite liked him, I'd like to see him again. Maybe he could become a friend, maybe more. Or he might have just been polite, and wasn't remotely interested in me. Most likely the latter, I don't think I would date me. The fatalistic part says what's the point anyway? I've managed to fuck up most of the relationships I've had, why set myself up to do it all again? 

There you go, miserable musings tonight. I've been in quite a good place for a while, but it doesn't take much to make you unravel again. I hope this time it passes quickly, I remember how I felt, for months, and I don't ever want to feel like that again.