A Glimpse Of What Might Have Been …
June 2, 2010, 6:18 am
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Comment Dear Mum, if you come across this post, please don’t read it. I know by saying this the temptation will be great but I’m begging you, don’t. Thanks Mum. Love you. Rx
Right, let’s get on with it shall we?
Regardless of your views of Facebook, for sentimental fools like me, it’s been quite a revelation.
I wrote a while back about how it makes you feel loved and keeps you honest, however it also lets you glimpse into what ‘might have been’.
What do I mean?
Well every now and then I like to look up what my oldest and closest friends are upto and whilst I’m obviously still in touch with them, I have to admit it’s quite weird seeing their lives are full of people, activities and occasions that I don’t know anything about.
These aren’t casual school mates, I’m talking deep routed friendships … friendships that have spanned decades and covered all manner of events – good and bad – and yet here I am, feeling I’m on the fringe of their life rather than part of it.
Of course that’s to be expected given I live in Asia and in the main, they live in Nottingham – and I know that if they looked closely at my life, they’d be all manner of people they wouldn’t have the faintest idea about – but that doesn’t make it any easier or better.
Maybe it’s ego.
Maybe it’s like that ex-lover syndrome where you move on with your life but secretly hope the other person decides the best course of action is to become a Nun/Monk because they realise they’ll never meet someone as good as you … but to be honest I don’t think it’s that because I believe the reason is I’m a sentimental fool.
As most of you on here know, my best friend is Paul.
I have known this man all my life and quite frankly, I regard him as a brother.
Now I know that’s the sort of bollocks 80’s heavy metal bands used to say about their members [normally just before they split up citing ‘musical differences’] … plus there’s the fact I haven’t actually got any siblings so how would I know what having a ‘brother’ is really like … and yet that is how I truly view him.
In short, I love him.
Now the thing is, even though we live thousands of miles away … don’t speak nearly as much as we should and have completely different lives … everyone I know [which now consists of more people outside of the UK than in it] knows about him.
Not only that, they know a bunch of other things about him … like he is a printer, he lives in Nottingham, he’s tall, he’s my best friend and he’s hung like a donkey.
At first I didn’t know why I took great pride in informing everyone that my best mate has a massive cock, but a few years ago I worked out why and it was not because I had secret gay tendencies towards him [though judging by this post, it would seem he does have gay feelings for me] it’s actually much more innocent than that, it was so I could still feel he was in my life.
You see by having people know Paul existed – even if they didn’t know him directly – I felt he was still around, still in my life, still someone I could pop in and see and that made living away easier … not better …. but easier.
Maybe it’s because being an only child and living away from my ‘home’ meant I had an emotional need to feel connected to things that represented ‘home’ [let’s not forget I even have feelings for my calculator] … giving me a sense of identify and belonging … however whilst Facebook does enable me to stay in touch with people who matter much more easily [not to mention restrain conversations about my best friends cock] it has also managed to pull back the curtain on my delusion that in Paul’s case, he was sitting there waiting for me to come home so we can carry on where we left off – and whilst I always knew that was not ever going to be the case – the thought of it made me feel happier in some way, which is why I feel the term ‘social network’ doesn’t always do the concept justice … because in certain circumstances, with certain friends, I think ‘feel like you still matter’ network is a much better term, even if there are occasions where it also highlights how you’re not nearly as high up the importance list as you once were.
12 Days Left …
June 1, 2010, 6:19 am
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Comment 
So here we are, the 1st June 2010.
That means in just 12 days, I turn forty.
FORTY!!!
I must admit, I cannot comprehend that … I really do think I am about 28 … infact there’s times where I’ve looked at what I’ve achieved in my life so far and thought, “not bad Rob, I wonder what you’ll have done when you hit 35?”, only to remember I was 35 years ago and in theory, I’ve hit my peak and am now on the slow and painful journey into chino-wearing mediocrity.
Of course, given I’m about to join W+K [or to prove I now know how to spell it, Wieden + Kennedy] I am hoping I am able to delay that decline for a few years … but the fact is, I am turning 40 and that seems unfuckingbelievable.
When I was younger, clicking over to another decade was so exciting.
I can still remember being beside myself when I turned 10.
Ten … double digits … I was practically an adult.
And then again at 20 … a decade that promised so much interms of new adventure and experiences … and whilst hitting 30 was fairly miserable due to a bunch of personal circumstances and tragedies, within a few months I was able to embrace the possibilities and feel really good about it.
But 40.
Forty!!!
It doesn’t help that I can remember my Dad’s 40th birthday … and that I remember thinking that was soooooooooooo old.
It also doesn’t help that the media have been on this “40 is the new 30” bollocks.
Let’s face it, that’s just not true … and whilst I don’t know how 40 year old people should act, I would say that if you were to see one behaving as I did when I turned 30, you’d immediately call him a sad fuck, phone for the Police and pray you don’t ever turn out that way.
But – and this is going to sound sappy – the biggest problem I have with turning 40 is that it makes me feel time with my wife is passing by too quickly.
I love my wife.
She is wonderful.
I can’t imagine what life would be like without her and I don’t want too.
She’s smart, funny, beautiful and kind and can make my best days brighter and my worst days less painful.
Over the years she has made some major sacrifices for me.
Not only have I taken her away from her family and friends … but I continue to take her away without seemingly any plan for it to stop.
I owe her … I owe her big time … and yet she asks for nothing and continues to encourage me, support me and love me in her wonderfully joyful way.
Turning 40 means I’ve known her 5 years … only 5 years … and whilst I [touch wood] have at least another 40 ahead of me, it’s simply not enough.
It’s times like this I wish I believed in a religion … a religion where I knew I’d meet her again, meet her earlier, but sadly I don’t and that is why I treasure every second with her.
She’ll hate me for saying this, but one thing I love is noticing the little lines that are appearing around her eyes.
There’s a couple of reasons for this … one is that she looks so bloody young it helps me feel less like a perv while the second is that it reinforces how close I am to her … so close that I notice little things like that.
All in all, my thirties were a stellar decade for me.
They say it should be the decade you make the biggest impact on how the rest of your life turns out – and whilst I don’t know if that’s true [and in some way, I hope it’s not as I/we still have a lot to do and experience] the reality is a load of amazing things happened in these 10 years … however without doubt the most powerful and beautiful one was meeting my wife and somehow convincing her I was good enough … and for that I am eternally grateful, both for her alarming lack of taste and the fact she’ll be by my side as I enter a decade where at the end of it, I will be universally classified as ‘old’, even if I still am wearing shit clothes and my Birkenstocks.
I hope the next 12 days go slow … but not as much as I hope the next 40 years with my wife do.
Filed under: Comment
Dear Mum, if you come across this post, please don’t read it. I know by saying this the temptation will be great but I’m begging you, don’t. Thanks Mum. Love you. Rx
Right, let’s get on with it shall we?
Regardless of your views of Facebook, for sentimental fools like me, it’s been quite a revelation.
I wrote a while back about how it makes you feel loved and keeps you honest, however it also lets you glimpse into what ‘might have been’.
What do I mean?
Well every now and then I like to look up what my oldest and closest friends are upto and whilst I’m obviously still in touch with them, I have to admit it’s quite weird seeing their lives are full of people, activities and occasions that I don’t know anything about.
These aren’t casual school mates, I’m talking deep routed friendships … friendships that have spanned decades and covered all manner of events – good and bad – and yet here I am, feeling I’m on the fringe of their life rather than part of it.
Of course that’s to be expected given I live in Asia and in the main, they live in Nottingham – and I know that if they looked closely at my life, they’d be all manner of people they wouldn’t have the faintest idea about – but that doesn’t make it any easier or better.
Maybe it’s ego.
Maybe it’s like that ex-lover syndrome where you move on with your life but secretly hope the other person decides the best course of action is to become a Nun/Monk because they realise they’ll never meet someone as good as you … but to be honest I don’t think it’s that because I believe the reason is I’m a sentimental fool.
As most of you on here know, my best friend is Paul.
I have known this man all my life and quite frankly, I regard him as a brother.
Now I know that’s the sort of bollocks 80’s heavy metal bands used to say about their members [normally just before they split up citing ‘musical differences’] … plus there’s the fact I haven’t actually got any siblings so how would I know what having a ‘brother’ is really like … and yet that is how I truly view him.
In short, I love him.
Now the thing is, even though we live thousands of miles away … don’t speak nearly as much as we should and have completely different lives … everyone I know [which now consists of more people outside of the UK than in it] knows about him.
Not only that, they know a bunch of other things about him … like he is a printer, he lives in Nottingham, he’s tall, he’s my best friend and he’s hung like a donkey.
At first I didn’t know why I took great pride in informing everyone that my best mate has a massive cock, but a few years ago I worked out why and it was not because I had secret gay tendencies towards him [though judging by this post, it would seem he does have gay feelings for me] it’s actually much more innocent than that, it was so I could still feel he was in my life.
You see by having people know Paul existed – even if they didn’t know him directly – I felt he was still around, still in my life, still someone I could pop in and see and that made living away easier … not better …. but easier.
Maybe it’s because being an only child and living away from my ‘home’ meant I had an emotional need to feel connected to things that represented ‘home’ [let’s not forget I even have feelings for my calculator] … giving me a sense of identify and belonging … however whilst Facebook does enable me to stay in touch with people who matter much more easily [not to mention restrain conversations about my best friends cock] it has also managed to pull back the curtain on my delusion that in Paul’s case, he was sitting there waiting for me to come home so we can carry on where we left off – and whilst I always knew that was not ever going to be the case – the thought of it made me feel happier in some way, which is why I feel the term ‘social network’ doesn’t always do the concept justice … because in certain circumstances, with certain friends, I think ‘feel like you still matter’ network is a much better term, even if there are occasions where it also highlights how you’re not nearly as high up the importance list as you once were.