Categories: uncategorized
Date: 11 November 2007 23:02:53
In the past, whenever a relationship had finished, I'd always tried to kid myself that we'd get back together. Of course, that never happened. I suppose it was just my way of getting by. This time, after being dumped by V, it was different. I was older and lived in the real world. It was over and I knew it. I had resigned myself to returning to the single life and was now looking forward to going to the USA. That's why I was surprised at what happened next.
It had finished on the Sunday. On Wednesday of the same week, V turned up at my flat, very tearful and apologetic. She told me she'd made a big mistake, that she'd had a bit too much to drink on the night in question so got a bit carried away. She had no feelings for this man whatsoever and wanted to be with me.
Well, this had never happened to me before. Without going into too many gory details, let me just say that it very soon became clear that it was back on again!
On the Saturday, V went to Oxford. Two days later I flew out to Dallas. I'd been told that turning up at check-in wearing a suit would give me a better chance of getting an upgrade. I did, and it worked. I flew in Business Class. I was served with Champagne cocktails, which made a difference from the usual can of beer I'd normally get while flying. The food was pretty good too, served on a proper plate with real cutlery.
On arrival, the first thing that hit me was the temperature. It was 105 Fahrenheit. Leaving the airport terminal was a bit like opening an oven door.
I very quickly fitted in with life and work. On picking up the car, I was initially a bit daunted at the prospect of having to drive a left hand drive car on the wrong side of the road. There was nothing to worry about though. Although the kerb was in the wrong place, so was the steering wheel, so adapting to driving on the right really wasn't a problem. The car was an automatic (as are most cars in the US) so I didn't have to worry about changing gear with the wrong hand. The only thing to worry about was the ashtray being on the wrong side, but I soon adapted.
I kept in touch with V. Obviously, we both had work to do, so didn't speak that often. Perhaps twice a week. Considering what had happened the week before, I was a little wary about our relationship. What I'd figured was that it would go one of two ways. Spending a couple of months apart would either strengthen the relationship, or it would die a natural death and we'd happily go our separate ways. I was hoping for the former, but fully prepared for the latter. I wasn't prepared for what actually happened.
One day, during one of our phone conversations, she told me very bluntly that she didn't want to see me any more. She'd finally made up her mind that she wanted to be with the bloke who she'd previously assured me she had no feelings for whatsoever. This time I was really upset. Not only did I feel betrayed, I was angry as well. Angry with myself for allowing myself to get back together and angry with her for dropping me the way she did. She told me that she came back to me because she didn't like seeing me hurt. Riiighht! Wait 'til you can't see me and then dump me again then if it eases your conscience! The first time she'd dumped me, I at least went to the pub with a mate to cry into my beer and get some consolation. This time, I was several thousand miles from home, away from my friends and family and I was seriously pissed off.
Apart from that, the rest of the trip went well though. The work was interesting and the people were fantastic. Despite their reputation for being intolerant rednecks, I found the Texan people to be genuinely warm, welcoming people, from the people I was working with, through the bartenders I dealt with and right down to the immigration officer I had met when I first landed. I think I only met one rude and unpleasant person the whole time I was there, and he was a New Yorker.
All in all, I had a pretty good time. I had the chance to stay longer if I'd liked. I chose not to. I'd enjoyed my two months, but I was ready to come home.