What is it about New Year's Eve that makes compulsive confessors out of all of us? For the second year running, someone has told me they love me. The rest of the year, nothing, zero etc. But come post-midnight January 1st and suddenly like Cinderella or something, I am loved.
Last New Year's Eve, there was this boy, the boyfriend of an acquaintance actually. We had been having a semi-drunk conversation about women in general, and how backpacking around India was the way to go when suddenly he leaned over, took my hands in his and said, "I love you."
"But you don't even know me," I said, slightly alarmed.
"But I love you. You're... different."
That's me, ladies and gents. Different. Not charming or beautiful like other women, or even funny. Oh, no. I'm different. Whatever that means. Good ol' different eM, with her good ol' different personality.
Last night at impromptu New Year's party at our house, this acquaintance again, who I hadn't seen for many years told me he "really liked me."
"No you don't," I told him, "No one really likes me. They just say that to get in my pants." I'm serious here, I think I'm incapable of inspiring any strong emotion. Oh, except lust. That I inspire. But lust isn't the stuff good romantic songs are made of.
"I don't want to get into your pants," he protested, "I really, really like you. You're different."
The party wasn't even supposed to be a party. At the end of two very depressing days, except one high point where I caught up with Leela and we had grand slumber party type reunion talking about the past year for both of us, the last thing I wanted to do was party. Or the only thing I wanted to do was party. It kept fluctuating. One moment I was all for crawling under my blanket and dying and the other I wanted to get smashed out of my mind and have such a good time that every single sad/morbid thought would be driven out of my mind by alcohol.
Previously mentioned old acquaintance was called round and he brought a couple of his friends and we drank and drank and drank. Small and I looked spectacular, even if I do say so myself, I was wearing my red Mango dress, with cleavage cut out almost to my stomach and Small was in a black turtleneck with a short wraparound skirt. We were both in funny high shoes, which kept us teetering delicately all evening.
A little bit after midnight, when 2006 was officially rung in, the doorbell rang and our new next-door neighbour appeared with a huge box of liquor chocolates, which added to the general intoxication. He's a little strange, our next-door neighbour and he didn't endear himself to me very much, because he upset my entire bookshelf and kept trying to walk off with The World According To Garp and Collected Poems Of Pablo Neruda and I had to keep wresting them away from him, explaining gently that I never lent books to people I had known for less than six months. "If you were in Bombay, I'd let you borrow all my books," he told me, mournfully. "That's sweet of you," I said, "But we're not in Bombay." Finally he came charging in with two of his books Shantaram and something else which he handed to me and said, "Here. These are two of my favourite books. Now can I take yours?" "No," said I and in the general confusion took my books back from him again. This morning though, when I woke up, I saw his books were still there, sitting pretty on my bookshelf. Tomorrow I shall give them back to him.
Old Acquaintance was being generally strange as well. He threw a massive tantrum when I said I thought he was sweet and all, but since I didn't really know him and he didn't really know me, perhaps making out wasn't such a good plan. "You don't like me," he said in an Irish accent, which came from god knows where. "It's not that I don't like you," I said, twisting my fingers round and round apologetically. "Then you do like me?" "It's not that simple, dude," I was practically weeping at this point, "Let it go, okay? It's complicated." It's too bad though, because we had been having a very nice conversation before the alcohol got in full flow. Then he entwined my fingers in his and because I was tired and upset and just so, so fed up with being me and being in this situation and also, yes, because I was so bloody lonely, I let him.
So, not a very happy beginning of the year for me. This morning, head pounding and mouth dry I lay in bed and thought about 2006. And I made two resolutions, one, to NEVER, EVER be emotionally dependant on anyone and to also NEVER, EVER let my guard down again and two, as far as possible to be wise and consistent in my judgements.
I'm sorry. This was supposed to be happy, party-type post, but I can't.