Three weddings
What do three otherwise unrelated weddings, none of which I have attended, have in common, and what do they then have in kind of contrasting relatedness?
Is it the romantic haitus which caused things not to work out? Were they weddings where I would have been the bridesmaid but never the Bride?
No a lot more mundane than that.
The thing is that it was all about being much further back down the line of romance, in fact just dabbling whille those going up to the alter were diving in.
I went through a period in my early thirties where girls wanted me to go to weddings with them,. In quick succession . But also I had taken a girl to a wedding before that.
I went to a wedding with probably the most beautiful but tragically tainted girl I ever met. She was a western isles beauty. Curly locks of hair falling, a kind of callow complexion, quite tall, very thing and elegant, perfectly proportioned if you like the size 8 long look, Champagne glass breasts. She looked a little french when she was 16 and I was a kind of messed up 21 year old. But years later a good pal got married and we had met up, and I asked her if she wanted to come,. ...we had a habit of meeting up down the years, once in Arrochar as I drove by, I just turned round to talk to her and ended up on a road trip with her.
She looked amaxing at the wedding, straightened hair dyed kind of brownish red hair. She wore pink tight trousers, above the ankle, and a navy blue jacket,. She looked like what she wanted to actually be, a successful actress. Which she wasnt because she was a bit unhinged, a bit of an alter ego me. Lost in her own thoughts often, relating rather badly to the world around her. A distant soul in a way.
She wanted a free meal, and some drink, Oh yes, she drank. And the drugs later she told me. Addictive personality.
Anyway the wedding, we eat and we were a little sociable, It was my best mate at Uni and I was already drifting a bit away from him. Later we cadged a joint and hid outside the hotel, unbeknowingly under the nuptual window. Some druinken things were over heard, amusing sexual innuendos. It was an odd thing. Me with a perfect looking girlfriend, them upstairs supposedly enjoying their prima nocta. None of it was quite right. everything was actually dysfuinctional. The grooms long standing infidelity. My inability to be a manly man, a beast who just took my beauty and seduced her with animal passion. This was about 97 I think
I had even played with her pussy once.
It was a bit like the forbidden fruit I was afraid to devour, but took a lick of the dripping sap.
Eventually we even met up in the time of the other weddings. She confessed to her addictions and her rehab,. How she drank Vodka to reduce the smell on her breath. The coke. The pills. She then wanted me to hear her poetry. She was a beautiful looking being, but her poetry was a lot of convoluted pseudo intellectual pish. Some people carry it off, but they have a line of logic. To me it was babbling,. Maybe it was good and on another level I didnt get.
She went home. Eventually we never saw again, those surreptious meetings stopped, the gods no longer wanted us to intertwine and try to fix each other. Her being lostness in her own mind, and my lack of self confidence and nerves in the face of conflict.
The other weddings were the other way around.
Then I was the hot catch.
I was still in the days of going to a party and being able to get that little tell tale connection with s girl AND follow it up.
Her nickname was Spike, and as usual, I wasnt quite expecting to meet someone. She reeked to me of needing a shag, and she did. I think we did it on the second date, which, for a nymphomaniac was decency and holding out uintil we knew each other.
So the sex was great, and she was nice, but a little crazy. More than unhinged. She was a possible because she was nice and the sex was, well amazing, but she was a messy girl without a decent career ahead of her. Neither a housewife for the yuppie business builder I had thought about being, nor a partner in crime in leveraging us into the lbuy to lett market,. Soooo I kind of was going along with a nice in bed, slightly innapropriate post student years malaise type person. It came down to a stinking messy kitchen and some rotten tangerines in a sack lying on the sitting room easy chair for months on end. Bought at christmas, i picked up the bag in early February, to a cloud of blue mould in the air.
Where then the wedding in this? Well of course these next three weddings weren't ours. And they werent those of anyone I knew, or really wanted to know for that matter.
Spike wanted me to go to a wedding in somewhere like Guildford or Leicster. It involved the shuttle or a hire car or me driving or the like.
Moving along quickly, skipping over but a mere six months or so I meet my next prospect at a party. I get this time a nod and a wink, and in fact I had been told I would fall for her by her best mate, whom ensured she would be at said flat party. We hit it off and either that night or another one, we ended up in bed. She pushed away, saying this was just sex. But I was open and wanted some new little adventure. I'd had a nice one nighter with a gorgeous friend who admitted to having a huge crush on me without having to say anything. Turned out to be a nyumpho.
Anyway, this new type of mine she was gorgeous ...from the chin down. A wonderful figure, easily tanned, looked more french than scottish, a huge head of thick black, flowing hair. From behind, it was like making love to one of those perfect bodied babes you just dont really get. But she was an alco baby. She had all the hall marks of her mum's heavy drinking during a pregnancy she probably didnt know about. Round eyes, dropped ears with a poorly defined lobe, and a thin, squinty mouth.
The truth was as simple as this. After my two big loves around 30 years old mark, who both rejected me, I was in the middle of a great shag fest. I was attractive and had a quantum of confidence, and a job which was a bit of a knicker dropper apparently.
Anyway, no2 here of the latter day weddings fiascos, was just not quite there for me. She was dirty, but had her hang ups about her prettier and more successful sister. The one who didnt get alcohol dammaged. She was a bit odd about some things and up tight and neurotic about the relationship.
It was like Esther, the only "long" term mid twenties malaise girl friend I bothered to go out with for any legnth of time. She was moany, a bit pathetic, always thinking I had been more in love with my previous ex. She could be bossy and overbearing too. Uncharming,. I enjoyed being ahem, fulfilled by her but it went on far, far too long for both of our goods. She lacked self confidence so we couldnt build upon each other. She was just a nice shag and she was nice to experience and I had been lonely after my ex left to Ireland.
Esther had no marital haitus. She moved home to her mums, came off the pill, and I lost interest surprise surprise.
So these two others then, Spike and the next one, yeah. It came down to the wedding invitation. The set up to be the man on the arm, That they too, could catch a decent man and keep him.
Maybe a recent daliance which bit me in the tail was karma for all this come to think of it.
Wedding 2 involved sitting in a car most of the weekend to go to be at a wedding I knew no one. My back was playing up and I put my foot down. NO: I wasnt going to be an exhbition Ken to Barbie.
No 2 was quite open about it. I left her in tears in her blue mrk 3 golf afterwe had a meeting to discuss things, which I knew was using to end it if she didnt five up on this wedding noncsence. " What's the point in having a boyfriend if you can't take him to a wedding*
I had to move to look after my old mum after that, but it wasnt long before I was back there, yet another. This time she was much older and wiser, and knew that it just wasnt quite there for me, nor was the chemistry so great. She called the game a bogey about the time when I was not really giving a shit.
So three weddings down.
One to go.
COVID 19 has done it for this new wedding. A super romantic affair on an Italian lake for a wealthy family my new squeeze was once an au paire for, said offspring now to be legally wed. It has fallen through and I am wondering If I am falling through and she is losing interest?
It would be ironic, but the boot is more or less on the same foot. Girls wanting a little fantastic romantic get away, man in arm to show off to her peer group that her life hasn't been a long succession of not quite good enoughs.
Well it has been for me, until these last three loves of my life, who are all maybe a bit too good for me. Esther,Spike, No. 2 and the Hebridean beauty were all not good enough for me.
Odd that weddings are the kind of benchmarking exercise.
