NORMAL LIFE: Love, And How Difficult It Is To Forgive And Forget

My drunken night out last night started rather well. As I waited for Bree to come home from a daytrip to his parents, I had a couple of drinks and watched some music DVDs ranging from camped-up STEPS, emotional Celine Dion, the poppy ABBA and, embarrassingly, a Best Hits DVD of Stock Aitken Waterman's 80's and 90s releases.

As the artist turned to Celine Dion, I marvelled at the not-so-hidden meanings in her songs. She truly is a diva and, years later, I still don't forgive here for 'selling out' to Ceasars Palace. Songs like I'm Alive, Then You Look At Me and That's The Way It Is echo so many significant happenings in my own life and, as the evening unfolded, similar emotions would be experienced once again.

By the time Bree came home, I was feeling a bit whoozy, but ready for a boogie down the club. Within fifteen minutes, we were inside and, sometime later, danced to a couple of songs. JP was there. JP was a very good friend of mine until, about two years ago, he suddenly stopped talking to me. I stood near the dancefloor and our eyes met. He smiled at me. I thought to myself that he has the cheek to smile at me when I have spent the last two years wondering what I had done for him to ignore me for two years. All the text messages I had sent, the emails, all of which remained unanswered.

I had given up, moved on, yet he did make the first move by saying Hi, and asking me how I was. He had a sob story, something about a sister having a form of cancer. It was hard to really hear, and it wasn't the place to really discuss that kind of subject. I agreed to dance with him, but I couldn't help but feel that I had fell into a trap. Was the friend I missed so much simply dancing with me because he had spent most of the evening alone, and wanted someone to dance with? Did he think that all was forgiven?

JP introduced me to a young colleague of his, who was perhaps no older than twenty-one or twenty-two. Minutes later, JP uttered into my ear: "I've had him", indicating, quite proudly, that he had slept with a colleague. I just nodded. JP hadn't changed and, instantly, I pulled away from him. Oblivious to my sudden retraction, JP ran off to dance to a favourite track with his colleague and, in his absence, Bree and I made a run for it. I just wasn't interested anymore.

Needless to say, I returned home in a foul mood. I was drunk by this time, but I was aware of my actions. Over breakfast this morning, Bree urged me to find it within myself to forgive JP. How do you forgive someone who ignores you for two years and, in the first time you meet, tries to justify it by saying a relative has an illness while giving you an update of his sex life at the same time? I'm soooo not interested.