Friday, 23 April 2010

What a Pheasant Day.....

Well today I have made the 200+ mile trip that has allowed me to meet with my ex-lover. The day has been glorious, cool breeze, blue skies and brilliant sunshine. I woke this morning wondering what the hell had possessed me to put myself through this ordeal, should I set off earlier therefore arriving too early for him to meet in his lunch break? Should I set off later so as to miss his break? Should I simply text him and tell him there had been a change of plan?

In the end I set off, whacked some of my favourite tunes on, opened the window to let the early summer air invade the car and put my foot down! I had a wonderful journey. I actually enjoy driving, my car may be a small city car but it can eat up the tarmac and happily hit 85mph. I took a familiar route, the one taken frequently to meet on our secret trysts, the motorway meanders through beautiful English countryside, soaked in green for most of its way as foliage and trees come to life for this late spring.

I happily sang to my ipod songs, gobbled the breakfast sandwich and watched the miles whizz by. I saw a low flying plane sweep over the fields and dropping a string of 7 small parachutes with some sort of small parcels hanging from them, intriguing stuff! I passed the area we used for picnics, passion and playful past-times and saw Red Kites swooping on the swell of the breeze, the bright sun catching their deep russet red plummage, we have watched them from below while lying on our backs in idyllic patches of nature reserve.

My wee city car was overtaken in all manner of rude ways by drivers or BMW's or sporty little number who felt indignant at being or being passed by a tiny shiny red vehicle! Let them pass, I didnt care, I was on my adventure.

I arrived a little early and used the ladies loos there and then sat in the park at a picnic table in the warmth of the midday sunshine. I wanted to lie on the grass, but didnt think it would perhaps be appropriate to be splayed out prone when he arrived. So I sat and watched the few park dwellers carry out there business and watched for his car.

He arrived. He looked nervous but I smiled in what I hope was a warm and friendly way and stood to meet him. We hugged awkwardly and he made his excuses to dash to the loo himself. I watched him half run across the grass, his stride so familiar. When he returned we smiled and he plonked himself opposite me. We were never 'apart' when we were together, we were always touching, holding, beside each other. The space screamed out at me. I don't know whether he felt it or not. I don't know anything really. We were both quite animated in our chatter, we have never had any difficulty finding things to talk about, right from the very first MySpace message we exchanged the words always poured from us, anything and everything our source of topic.

I watched his face, the golden highlights in his hair, his beard trimmed slightly differently, his hazel eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled. I watched his hands, smooth and clean and his fingers so close I wanted to reach for them. I didn't.

And so we chattered along, sharing pics and news of our respective children, I never intended to speak of us, I wanted to hear his news, to tell him mine, to share fragments of our worlds. But he brought it up, he referred to our lost love, spoke of the discarded gifts and his regrets of that, he spoke of how I had fought so for my marriage before we met, he felt it only 'honourable' to do the same when she asked him to try, he said that the highs we'd had together were the sort that he would never get to feel again so precious were they, he chatted and filled the air with his talk.
I never got to tell him about the reason I had left our adult site, the way I had enjoyed my journey, the fields and the parachutes, the planes and the Red Kites, the dozens of dead pheasants that littered the motorway.

His lunch break ended, we walked back to the cars, I don't know what was going on in his head, we hugged again briefly. Did I want to kiss him? I don't know. If he had kissed me would I have allowed it? Yes.

And have I found anything out about myself today? Have I learnt anything. Only that I am so glad I'm not a pheasant.......

1 comment:

  1. How brave you have been, not to give in to what you so wanted to do, but it must have been like torture for you. Poor pheasants, I'm very fond of the daft things... Much love and hugs, Saz's friend, Fhina x