lonely

The church bell tolls.
It's Sunday.
Morning.

I haven't heard them before but then I haven't been here on a Sunday before. The sound is quite lovely but they ring and ring and stop. And wait. And ring and ring and stop. And wait. And ring. I turn the bells into the symbols I feel they always were. Sweet, but loud enough to be heard by everyone in the surrounding areas, touching all, removing choice, carrying their message of guilt in those soulfull, sad tolls - You should be here - Not sleeping.

I always get like this when I'm lonely.
As a kid I never got lonely.... a partner who loves me has changed me.
I don't know whether it's a self destructive part of me, looking for imprefections, or if it's the problem solver in me, thinking through the bits I'm not happy with.
The album is finished.
Suddenly everything needs to be done now.
The only weekend I'm alone is suddenly the weekend they need photos taken.
Those photos that will probably end up everywhere.
Press releases, the album sleeve, website.

I wasn't told at all until photographers were found.
I wasn't intending to be in Melbourne this weekend, I've got tickets for next weekend.
I initially bought all the camera gear because it was a way I could help them out, I have no musical skills, no musical history but I was still living the band life.
Worse.
I was living that life and the normal life. I've supported every which way for years, now it will be someone elses name in the credits.

Typical.

I got the album in the mail.
It sounds very different to the music played live.
My favourites are different.
Not bad. Different.

Maybe because it was different.
Maybe because I'm alone.
The album brought back feelings I had forgotten.
Not different. Bad.

The biggest fight we ever had was while the band toured when I was in Sydney.
While I was in Sydney we had some big, big fights.We very nearly broke up a few times. It was always me that reeled it back.
She told me over the interstate phonelines she isn't really attracted to me.
She loves me completely. I know this to be true.
But.
She always saw herself with a muso.
She is attracted to people who are psychotically passionate about music.
She has since realised the life of a muso is hard.
The life of two musos is harder still.
My life gives her her life.

Music doesn't make money. It requires money.
Music gives you attention. A buzz. A way to make things right.
It's self indulgent, and sometimes, rarely, it's a gift.Music makes people clap for you.
All people.

No one claps for me, but they do give me money.
She hates her day job.
Friday I offered to support her if she quits.
She can spend her time on the album and other projects currently on the go. A couple of months should do it, then she can work part time.I'm not at all financially recovered from the trip, the 4 months off or the moving to Brisbane, but I'll make it work. I always do.

I love her. That love is a part of me.
I don't trust her completely.
She is always looking at people.
When she sees muso dudes, she gawks. I have to repeat whatever I'm saying.
If we go out with our single chick friends, she is the worst.
We can't talk to her, she's too busy checking out the dudes.

I trust her always, except when she's drunk.
Stuff I don't like happens.
I'm a big flirt.
It's how I interact. She likes that about me.
But I'm consistent.
She changes when she's drunk. A massive flirt. Takes things too far.
But not far enough for her to feel anything is wrong.
Does things that even single girls wouldn't do.
I don't like that.

A minute after kissing me for NYE, she organised 8 single girls and her to cuddle the hosts' housemate on his bed. She was calling out "spooning... spooning".
Despite the massive amount of single girls right there, the dude's hand was on her upper, upper, upper thigh.
Of course. She was the best looking.
She was the funnest.
He didn't know she had a boyfriend. That he was right there.
She jumped away... but the image was already in my mind.
Just one example.

NYE was an exception though.
I usually don't have her attention at all until she's tired and emotional and needs to go home.
It's not such a bad thing, I've always made my own fun. Popular at parties.

I don't get the crazy fun the others got.
I get the drunk, dead, zonked girl.
She's not attracted to me.

We don't pash much.
We kiss like best friends.
I now don't feel I can pash her unless my teeth are sparkling clean, my tongue scraped, my breath the freshest.
That makes me nervous, puts me on the back foot.
I'm not as good as I used to be.

We don't sex much.She has a medical thing.
It hurts her. Bad.
Has. The entire time.

She doesn't feel like it much.
I don't want to her hurt her.
I'm not as good as I used to be.

I don't instigate much.
She needs to be in the mood.
We do other things.
She still needs to be in the mood.
I have a good imagination but I can't plan anything.
I don't want my name to create guilt.

These are the only bad bits.
After nearly 4 years.
All the other bits are good.
Very good.

I love her.
She loves me.
I always get like this when I'm lonely.