How fucked is this?
If some things do not make sense it is because I have kinda jumped around using knowledge I gained after the fact to explain what happened previously.
I have an ex. Yes. Yes. I know. As amazing as that sounds – I do.
She is nine years and four months older than I am. We knew each other for about four months before we started going out. She was my teacher at our equivalent of community college. I did one non assessable short course with her, then did a second one. It was during that second one that we became closer and started going out.
During the time we were going out I had enrolled and started the three year accredited course though for Unit 1A she was not my teacher.
During my time with her I was a lot less violently insane. (Sure a little had to do with her serious aversion to violence but most of it was just that when I was with her I simply could not muster the rage and hatred I normally feed upon).
All through my high school and university days I was the ultimately stereotypical bachelor. My longest relationship was about two weeks before I got tired of being tied down and no – it was not because I wanted someone else – I just didn’t want to have to check every Friday and Saturday night with her to find out what we were doing.
I have never cheated on a significant other. Not ever. For all my murderous insanity I have a code of honour and cheating falls into the “left wing socialist hippie filth do what feels good” category and I think I have demonstrated suitably by now that I would commit seppuku if I ever did something to lower myself to the level of left wing socialist hippie filth. Hell - if I do something like that I will do a live web cast of my committing seppuku (keep checking here for details.)
That being said – if you had told me back in my high school and uni days that I would get married and start a family one day, I would have laughed in your face and then bitch slapped you for being so stupid. And if I had thought that I would get married and start a family I would have laughed at and then bitch slapped myself.
And then this teacher entered my life (oh god that accent!!! But I digress….)
I have a really close friend around that age and she said to me
“She is older, more mature and is probably sick of games and would be looking for something serious and long term – possibly marriage and children. If you cannot be that for her then Tiberius – for God’s sake do not get involved any further.”
So I thought and thought and thought and thought and thought about it. Then I thought and thought and though some more and there was no doubt that not only could I be that for her – but for the first time ever – I truly wanted to be that for her.
That moment of recognition was a real “Holy shit! Fuck me drunk! What the fuck has happened to me” moment.
To step back a moment here – I am not saying I was going to propose to her the next time I saw her. It was too early for that but there was not one iota of chance that I would not ask when the time came.
But she never questioned my loyalty or commitment to her. There was no doubt in her mind that I would commit to her.
Now I can hear you all saying “I know you don’t tell stories with happy endings so how did things go all bad?”
The problems here were two fold. One was that she was not so sure what she wanted out of the relationship. This stems back to a couple of her previous ex’s who had done a real number on her psychologically (and you can rest assured that when I get my hands on them they are going to have a long, slow torturous death) but the biggest problem was her apprehension about the age difference. When she told me about her previous younger guy who was five years younger than her, who after about 4 years together says “I want a week apart to see if this is what I really want” and then goes and sleeps with someone else during that week, I knew I would be fighting this the entire time.
Allow me to indulge my ego a bit here. The age difference between us did it no harm at all. I got to brag to my mates about landing a beautiful 34 year old woman and ditto to the guys at work. It was even better bragging to them given that most of them are in their 40’s and 50’s and going through their mid life crises chasing all these younger women and they couldn’t stand it that I as a younger guy was showing them all up with such a fantastic specimen while they are relegated to sluts and boilers.
I assumed she would get the same ego boost by going to her girlfriends and saying “Yeah. I am beating out all these 20 – 25 year old Britney and Christina wannabe midriff-baring sluts and have a 25 year old hanging off my arm with eyes only for me”
And don’t get me wrong – I was under no illusion that when she said to come and pick her up early from a barbeque at her friend’s place so I can have a bite to eat before going out – that is exactly what she was doing.
I could see by the looks on the faces of her girlfriends and the raised eyebrows those who knew she had a 9 years younger guy and those who just knew she was bringing her new boyfriend. And damn it felt good.
I will skip over the many flare ups and reassuring conversations I had to have with her to assure her the age difference was no concern suffice to say that in the end it was too much for her. I tried everything I could to make her see that the age difference mattered nothing but to no avail.
We still remained friends and went out as friends a number of times. And I still loved her.
I went on a holiday and came back sick a couple of weeks early. She was due to head off to Europe for six weeks so I had hoped we would catch up before she left. We had a few conversations and it was during one of them that I got the news I had been dreading ever since we parted ways. The news I knew would not be far away and had hoped to Hell I would be prepared for. She had met someone else.
We didn’t get to catch up before she left. He was going to be meeting her for a week in Europe before returning to Australia a couple of weeks after she was going to.
She got back a couple of weeks ago. We caught up for a drink and a chat and went to see The Return of the King (yes – my third time). And what I came out of that viewing most with was that my feelings have not changed. I still love her.
Filthy Fuckstick Wanking Nazi Shitstain (my completely neutral and unbiased name for my German replacement whom I have not had the displeasure to meet as yet) is back this week so we will see how much that changes things.
That he did not die overseas in some horribly painful way (or just die at all) is fucked in itself but that is not what I am asking when I say “how fucked is this?”
I am continuing with the accredited course and this year she is my teacher. As she said to me during our last meeting, and I quote:
“I was so happy to see your name on my class list this year. Having to deal with all the idiots out there – it is students like you that make me want to keep teaching”
And so I keep turning up to class every week. How can I not?
Given everything that has transpired between us and I how I still feel about her and having her as my teacher again and possibly for much of the rest of the course – I ask you again…
How fucked is it?
I have gotten feedback from a number of people and they all reckon it is pretty fucked.
© by Tiberius Alatheus 2004