Will you still love me tomorrow?
Deep down, we all wish to be loved. I realise that this is no earth shattering revelation, but the lengths people will got to, and the hardships they will endure, in order to achieve a lasting, loving relationship never cease to amaze me. This week, three stories have highlighted the stunningly irrational behaviour of amorous folk everywhere.
Let’s start with the big hitter; the break up of Prince William and his girlfriend, Kate Middleton.
On the surface of it, this is not much of a story. A couple in their early to mid twenties, sweethearts since their teens, split up. It is a common tale these days – something about that period in a relationship, especially when it correlates with the participants being of that age, equals the death knell for many a coupling. I’m not entirely sure why, either; maybe, as people ease into their third decade, relaxing into their own skin, growing and developing as individuals, they look one day at their partners only to find that the confused teenager they fell for has also changed. Maybe they no longer recognise, let alone like or desire, what they see.
Or perhaps they just think, “Oh God, it’s been years. I want to fuck other people”.
Either way, it’s happened to countless friends of mine, and it’s also happened to me. Seeing as we’re on the subject, I’ll tell you the tale.
I met V, as we'll call her, when she was working at my local Co-op. Unlike the cackling, toothless hags that usually seem to wear the famous blue tabard, she was young, pretty and feisty, with cheeky eyes and a great penchant for flirty banter. I swiftly fell for her from across the checkout, and would find myself visiting the Co-op at all hours, buying all manner of nonsense on the off chance of catching a glimpse of her. For months, I admired her from afar and bided my time, amassing a huge collection of tinfoil and Brillo pads in the process.
I finally plucked up the courage to ask her out, and to my delight she offered minimal resistance to the proposition. Thus followed one of the more purple patches of my life, as for two years, set against the burgeoning of my new career as a stand-up, we shared a loving, exciting relationship.
Unfortunately, we did eventually start to become complacent, to take each other for granted, and so to grow apart. She did not share my passion for comedy, which with almost exponential rapidity became a huge part of my life. She got a new job, as a legal clerk, and her aptitude meant she was swiftly promoted a number of times. We were both broadening our horizons, meeting and hanging out with new people. She eventually decided that our relationship was holding her back.
Not that she told me straight away. She waited for months, nearly three soul-mangling months of emotional distancing and rejected attempts at physical intimacy. Eventually, the night that we had tickets to go and see the pop-star Pink (one of her favourites) came and went. The concert was brilliant. She dumped me the next day.
Yeah. Ouch.
Like I said, though, it’s a common story, and the only thing that makes the William / Kate affair newsworthy is that he is Diana’s son. The fact that the story of their break-up has been the top news story of the day (COUPLE SPLIT UP SENSATION – MORE TO FOLLOW!) is as equally perplexing to me as the hysterical reaction to his mother’s death. I remember being as saddened by that as I am by the death of any celebrity who seems to have been a basically decent person, but feeling completely out of step with the perceived mood of the nation, baffled as to why the world had practically ground to a halt. “But Ben”, people would say, “she was such a good person”. Indeed she was. But then my Gran was as good a person as you could possibly hope to meet, and when she died there were twenty or so people at her funeral. The rest of the world couldn’t have cared less.
Either way, in Diana’s absence the press have latched onto William with similar furore - although strangely not Harry to the same extent. Why could that be, I wonder? Oh, excuse me, I have to sneeze.
A(Hewitt’s son)choo.
This considered, it’s a wonder that the relationship lasted as long as it did, existing inside a bubble of media-induced duress. The recent footage of Middleton being hounded through the streets by a horde of snapping photographers was scarily reminiscent of how the “Queen of Hearts” herself used to live. Kate probably decided to cut her losses now before she ends up dead in an underpass.
Meanwhile, another story of much less profile but comparable interest this week was of an Australian man and an English woman who, having first been in touch on an online poker site and subsequently corresponding through email, were engaged to be married within four minutes of meeting each other in person. There is a joke about taking the term “poker” too literally here, but I’ll leave it.
The couple went on to marry four months later and now live together in Australia. Whilst I admire a streak of devil-may-care in anyone (except maybe air traffic controllers) I must say that this is a kind of rash that no amount of calamine lotion will quell. I wish them well, but this does smack of a mutual act of desperate loneliness. I sincerely hope I’m wrong.
Maybe I’m just being a killjoy cynic, which is a shame because I’m a romantic at heart. Why not go out on a limb, take a chance at happiness, no matter how unlikely or fleeting it seems? I refer you to the last of my stories, the tale of a Sudanese man who was so enamoured with the object of his affection that he decided he would consummate the relationship without further ado. Unfortunately, he was disturbed mid-act by his lover’s owner, who was, to say the least, not best pleased to find a total stranger balls deep in her goat.
Sorry, did I not mention it was a goat?
It has backfired on him spectacularly, though. The woman complained to village elders who judged, in their ineffable wisdom, that the best solution was that the man married the goat. The man now has a wife with curly horns, which is something that no-one should really aspire to.
I sincerely hope she divorces him. It would be great to see a goat owning half a farm.
In fact, that is one Prince William story that would be newsworthy. “READ ALL ABOUT IT – WILLS TO MARRY GOAT!” That would sell papers.
Having said that, his father has already stolen his thunder by marrying a horse.
It just goes to show that, no matter how desperate and lonely one gets, there are some limbs one should never go out on.
Peace. X
Let’s start with the big hitter; the break up of Prince William and his girlfriend, Kate Middleton.
On the surface of it, this is not much of a story. A couple in their early to mid twenties, sweethearts since their teens, split up. It is a common tale these days – something about that period in a relationship, especially when it correlates with the participants being of that age, equals the death knell for many a coupling. I’m not entirely sure why, either; maybe, as people ease into their third decade, relaxing into their own skin, growing and developing as individuals, they look one day at their partners only to find that the confused teenager they fell for has also changed. Maybe they no longer recognise, let alone like or desire, what they see.
Or perhaps they just think, “Oh God, it’s been years. I want to fuck other people”.
Either way, it’s happened to countless friends of mine, and it’s also happened to me. Seeing as we’re on the subject, I’ll tell you the tale.
I met V, as we'll call her, when she was working at my local Co-op. Unlike the cackling, toothless hags that usually seem to wear the famous blue tabard, she was young, pretty and feisty, with cheeky eyes and a great penchant for flirty banter. I swiftly fell for her from across the checkout, and would find myself visiting the Co-op at all hours, buying all manner of nonsense on the off chance of catching a glimpse of her. For months, I admired her from afar and bided my time, amassing a huge collection of tinfoil and Brillo pads in the process.
I finally plucked up the courage to ask her out, and to my delight she offered minimal resistance to the proposition. Thus followed one of the more purple patches of my life, as for two years, set against the burgeoning of my new career as a stand-up, we shared a loving, exciting relationship.
Unfortunately, we did eventually start to become complacent, to take each other for granted, and so to grow apart. She did not share my passion for comedy, which with almost exponential rapidity became a huge part of my life. She got a new job, as a legal clerk, and her aptitude meant she was swiftly promoted a number of times. We were both broadening our horizons, meeting and hanging out with new people. She eventually decided that our relationship was holding her back.
Not that she told me straight away. She waited for months, nearly three soul-mangling months of emotional distancing and rejected attempts at physical intimacy. Eventually, the night that we had tickets to go and see the pop-star Pink (one of her favourites) came and went. The concert was brilliant. She dumped me the next day.
Yeah. Ouch.
Like I said, though, it’s a common story, and the only thing that makes the William / Kate affair newsworthy is that he is Diana’s son. The fact that the story of their break-up has been the top news story of the day (COUPLE SPLIT UP SENSATION – MORE TO FOLLOW!) is as equally perplexing to me as the hysterical reaction to his mother’s death. I remember being as saddened by that as I am by the death of any celebrity who seems to have been a basically decent person, but feeling completely out of step with the perceived mood of the nation, baffled as to why the world had practically ground to a halt. “But Ben”, people would say, “she was such a good person”. Indeed she was. But then my Gran was as good a person as you could possibly hope to meet, and when she died there were twenty or so people at her funeral. The rest of the world couldn’t have cared less.
Either way, in Diana’s absence the press have latched onto William with similar furore - although strangely not Harry to the same extent. Why could that be, I wonder? Oh, excuse me, I have to sneeze.
A(Hewitt’s son)choo.
This considered, it’s a wonder that the relationship lasted as long as it did, existing inside a bubble of media-induced duress. The recent footage of Middleton being hounded through the streets by a horde of snapping photographers was scarily reminiscent of how the “Queen of Hearts” herself used to live. Kate probably decided to cut her losses now before she ends up dead in an underpass.
Meanwhile, another story of much less profile but comparable interest this week was of an Australian man and an English woman who, having first been in touch on an online poker site and subsequently corresponding through email, were engaged to be married within four minutes of meeting each other in person. There is a joke about taking the term “poker” too literally here, but I’ll leave it.
The couple went on to marry four months later and now live together in Australia. Whilst I admire a streak of devil-may-care in anyone (except maybe air traffic controllers) I must say that this is a kind of rash that no amount of calamine lotion will quell. I wish them well, but this does smack of a mutual act of desperate loneliness. I sincerely hope I’m wrong.
Maybe I’m just being a killjoy cynic, which is a shame because I’m a romantic at heart. Why not go out on a limb, take a chance at happiness, no matter how unlikely or fleeting it seems? I refer you to the last of my stories, the tale of a Sudanese man who was so enamoured with the object of his affection that he decided he would consummate the relationship without further ado. Unfortunately, he was disturbed mid-act by his lover’s owner, who was, to say the least, not best pleased to find a total stranger balls deep in her goat.
Sorry, did I not mention it was a goat?
It has backfired on him spectacularly, though. The woman complained to village elders who judged, in their ineffable wisdom, that the best solution was that the man married the goat. The man now has a wife with curly horns, which is something that no-one should really aspire to.
I sincerely hope she divorces him. It would be great to see a goat owning half a farm.
In fact, that is one Prince William story that would be newsworthy. “READ ALL ABOUT IT – WILLS TO MARRY GOAT!” That would sell papers.
Having said that, his father has already stolen his thunder by marrying a horse.
It just goes to show that, no matter how desperate and lonely one gets, there are some limbs one should never go out on.
Peace. X
posted by Ben Schofield at 11:15 PM
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