***WARNING! EXTREMELY BORING!***
***NO FART JOKES HERE***
everything was good. everything was fine.
back in Sydney work was regular. my apartment was fantastic. i get the see all my mates as much as possible
everything was calm. everything was groovy
now with the downtime in work that happens over the Xmas and NYE, i had some time to think. what the fuck am i going to do about the Elk? i thought maybe it's just because it's all turning to shit that i falling on him as a crutch. i don't want to be using one of my closest friends just to make myself feel better. but everything is fine now i'm back in Sydney. i can think clearly.
let me tell you something about the Elk…
i have known him for about 11 years
he lived just a hundred metres down the road from where i was living in Darlington. he was a sexy little fucker then too in his boots and little shaved head. but i had just broken up with my first boyfriend and needed a drinking buddy more than another one night stand. we'd go for beers in Darlington, next to the infamous suburb of Redfern, then it was still a rotten crusty little inner city suburb in the early stages of gentrification.
Darlington/Redfern. also known as The Block
Redfern riots 2004
we hung out a lot. Elk rarely says anything and i was shy as hell back then until we got drunk. we were getting drunk almost once a week. nothing ever happened.
soon he moved up north. after that i didn't see much of him. on the rare occasion that i did, i took him and a friend to see Baise Moi at the old Valhalla cinema in Glebe. the second Elk sat down beside me in the chair he reached to the floor of the theatre and pulled up a large bottle of vodka. he tipped it upside down before my eyes and asked: "what kind of film have you brought me too?"
the french film with it's nasty violence and hard core rape scenes with actual penetration proved to be an excellent date film.
then for a few years i didn't see him at all. then late one friday night i was walking up Oxford street in Sydney and he was stomping down the footpath towards me. i was a little excited, but on my way to a job so i couldn't stop to talk. the job i went to was excruciating. afterwards i was so damn frisky, and a little drunk and coked out, that when i got home i sent the Elk a text to get his arse over to mine. it was more of an ultimatum than a text. i passed out seconds later with my cock in my hand
the next morning Elk responded. he came over. i knew if we sat down to talk that the mood would pass. the moment the door opened i grabbed him and dragged him to my bed. jesus titty-fucking christ, holding him by the arse and pulling his body against me was amazing. it was a long wait but it made up for the last few years.
at this time he was kinda seeing someone else so i never pursued him. he bought a house and threw himself into the horrible task of renovating it himself. i came to hang out, get drunk with him, take his mind of renovating. it was just like before, but with sex and cuddles and sleepovers. it was all good. it was great. but a little bit weird because it was turning into something more.
did i want this yet? no. i don't think i did
over the next 2 years it was a painful and repetitious push and shove. i just wanted to remain friends and he kept hinting at more. it was impossible to ignore and it would frustrate the hell out of me. i just wanted to be friends. i know don't fare well in relationships so i avoid them. it is a tough decision to keep saying 'no' to one of the few people you ever think might be right for you. how do say 'no' to one of your best friends? it's a gamble, and if it fails not only do you lose a partner, but you lose a best friend as well. at the time, i would have fucked it up. there is no doubt about that.
the most i could do was offer a warm bed and some monkey arms to wrap around him. a few times we'd just lay in bed and listen to music to give him a little escape
ultimately i kept pushing him away, cruelly, therefore i fucked it up anyway
for the next year he came and went. appearing and disappearing in and out of my life when i would allow him too. patient of my moods. tolerant of whenever i changed the rules to suit myself. he was always there
mid 2010 i bounced between Sydney and Melbourne. the Elk had figured out i began seeing someone. he graciously retreated, wished me well and vanished off to Berlin. we no longer talked at all
six months later, december 2011 my move to the country for love had failed. i felt too embarrassed to move back to Sydney. so i moved into Melbourne. within a month i had heard from the irish Elk.
"are you sure?"
"yes!"
things were a little shaky. a lot shaky. around others we were great. but alone we were so uncomfortable around each other that it was painful. he would tread so lightly around me that we'd be blanketed in silence most of the time. that is, when i wasn't jabbering on about shit to fill the awkward silence. i wouldn't say much to avoid his reaction. he'd say nothing because he didn't know how explosive my reaction would be to his reaction
somehow, we got over it. through running around abandoned buildings to getting staggeringly shitfaced drunk at the Laird. we managed to shut our fucking mouths, stop holding grudges, stop assuming there's a hidden agenda and remember why we enjoy hanging out with each other in the first place. it wasn't easy, but i had to grow up sometime.
soon we were seeing each other every day.
i wanted him around. i wanted him around all the time. but things were still a bit shit in melbourne. i needed to wait until everything was fine before i made a decision.
i got back to sydney. things cleared up. my judgement was a lot less cloudy. i knew that i no longer want something quick to throw away. i wanted more. i realised i wasn't just using him to make myself feel better during the last few weeks in Melbourne. i genuinely wanted him there. he was the reason i felt better
i decided to stop fighting it. stop fighting him. just relax and enjoy whatever was going to happen. just go with the flow. whether it works out or whether it turns to shit. just enjoy it and at least give it a try. no matter how fucking scary that can be
i want something good to die for to make it beautiful to live
i want a new mistake
the Elk moved back to Sydney a few weeks after me. he trotted over on Christmas eve. he stayed that night. christmas day was just us sitting by the pool, drinking tequila. over a not-so-peking duck we argued about astrology
"star signs are a load of shit!" it's true. i hate people who ramble on about star signs. mocking them but still giving them credibility. it's like hearing someone talk about believing in god, or any god for that matter. i just think they are a little bit stupid.
"well, yes and no. there have just been so many coincidences in my past relationships," he started to drunkenly ramble. slamming down 3 shots of tequila to every one of mine. the archetypal irishman was coming out of him. it was cute to watch him mumble incomprehensibly, "...mmfphmf mhhm hufurrr-gur ppffm... you're a gemini so you give everything for a short amount of time then... pfft! you go away!"
"fine! if that's true. you're an aquarius, so you're a arrogant self-absorbed wanker. restrained and pig-headed! my last 2 relationships that meant something have something have been aquarius you will be my third!" i'm not sure if he realised what i said. i wasn't sure i realised what i just said. i hoped he was drunk enough. he responded with the volume his voice rising and falling, none of which i could understand a full sentence. "huh? what? right. that's it. i can't understand a word you are saying. i'm taking you to bed!"
he stayed that night too. and the next. and the next.
he didn't go home for 4 days