On the Belgian

Hey Ragers and Ragettes!!!  It’s July and the skies over Manchester are cloudy.  I’m wearing black trousers and a black cardi with a blush coloured sleeveless blouse with my black stilettos.  I should be in a sundress.  Not trousers.  Sigh.

From my last post, I was down as I am living a double life and I still feel that I am not meant for the real world.  I still feel that at times.  I look back at photos of me with my turquoise bob and my nose ring.  I sometimes wish I was still that girl.  This feeling of being lost and alone has led to some strange thoughts.

My night time routine recently has gone something like this. I leave work at 5pm promptly (at my job they kick you out at 5pm.  They are big on work/life balance).  It takes me about a half an hour to get to my little apartment.  I get in, take my make up off, cook my dinner, write and I’m in bed by 7pm.  I watch TV on my tablet or read a book.  I try to start my sleep routine for 8:30pm.  I listen to a meditation track.  I usually drift off at this point.  My sleep has been pretty good I must admit. 

I have been watching a lot of foreign TV Shows.  I get lost in them.  There is something sexy about being drawn into a high stakes poker game in Switzerland or being caught up in a drug deal in Amsterdam.  I fall in love with the characters.  In one of the shows I watched I fell so deeply in love with one of the characters that when he was shot and killed, I cried, as if I was mourning the death of my lover.  I even cried at work over it!!!!!  

I am concerned as I feel like my concept of reality is going by the wayside and that the little world in my head will consume me.

And recently I have been thinking about The Belgian.

The Belgian is a ghost from my past.  When I lived in Dublin, Ireland, I worked with him. 

I remember the first day we met.  It was his first day of work and he took my safety coat to go in the warehouse. I was wearing a white sweater that was shedding.  He was wearing a black sweater.  When he came back up, he took the safety coat off to find that his black sweater was covered with the white fluff from my sweater.  He looked at me with his piercing blue eyes and with his thick accent he said, you’ve gone all over my body.  We both laughed and from then on we became good friends. 

He lived close to me and he used to walk me home every night after work.  We had the same sick, twisted sense of humour.  We watched the same shows.  At the time I was with my ex fiancée and he was dating a German girl who was rather odd.  I would never have put the two of them together.  She was so serious and he was so light hearted and carefree.    

When my ex fiancée and I went to Turkey for our friend’s wedding, he happened to be on vacation in Turkey at the same time.  We didn't plan it like that.  We met up and had a laugh.  My ex fiancée and the Belgian’s girlfriend were kind of on the sidelines because we spent the whole night laughing at jokes and being silly. 

My ex fiancée and I argued about it on the way back to our hotel.  He thought that I was having an affair with The Belgian.  I wasn’t.  We were just good friends. 

When I broke up with the ex fiancée, The Belgian was there for me.  He texted me made sure that I was ok.  He listened and didn't judge.  Sympathized at how the ex cheated on me.  He wiped away my tears and made me laugh.

One Saturday he took me out for a day out in Dublin city center.  I remember it being a cloudy day. His girlfriend brought along a friend of hers and kind of left me and the The Belgian on our own as the Belgian hated her friend.

It was a weird, but fun day and it distracted me from the break up.  He was making me laugh and I soon found myself getting lost in his blue eyes.  I started to fantasize about kissing his full lips.  (He seriously has the biggest, sexiest lips I have ever seen in my life!!!)  My body tingled when he hugged me goodbye.

He was still with his girlfriend.  So I kept my feelings and thoughts in check.  I valued his friendship so much.  But I also wanted to cross that line.  

Then I left Ireland in 2008 and came to Manchester.  We still kept in touch by email.  He ended up moving to Switzerland because his girlfriend got a job there.   

One Friday night in 2010 when I was online shopping for sundresses (I had lost loads of weight and was looking a lot fitter and smaller than the last time I saw him) he messaged me asking how I was.  

I messaged him back.  He was crying.  His girlfriend cheated on him and was pregnant with her lover’s baby.  She left him.  He was packing his stuff up and moving back to Belgium.  My heart broke for him as I knew how that felt.    

We started chatting most nights after that online.  He introduced me to some new music. We laughed about the old days.  Then one Friday night after a couple of glasses of wine I spilled the fact that I wanted to kiss him that day he took me out in Dublin.

He replied, why didn’t you?

This opened up a lot a floodgate of feelings.  Our messages got raunchier.  Naked photos were sent.  (He’s a very big boy indeed!!)  We talked about what would happen if I came over to visit.   I told him how I wanted his lips to explore my body.  He told me that he wanted to make me scream his name over and over again and taste me.  

This went on for a few weeks.  Then all of a sudden the messages stopped.

I didn’t hear from him for ages.  Then he emailed me.  He had a new girlfriend, a new home, a new job.  Even a dog.  He settled into a new life. 

I was still in Manchester.  I must admit that my heart dropped.  At that time I had lost my job.  I was going to an interview.  He wished me luck.  And I wished for him to hold me and tell me that everything would be ok. 

We have kept in touch on and off since then.  He helped Simon and me with some documents as we were looking to buy out our main supplier who happened to live in Belgium.

When I went to Brussels to meet the supplier when Simon and I were discussing the buyout, I chose to not meet up with him.  I was with Simon and The Belgian had a girlfriend.  I didn’t know what I would have done if I saw him.  

So why am I talking about the Belgian?

I think that in the last few months, I have felt lonely.  My sex life has been non-existent (thank you Ann Summers for your toys and thank you Duracell for keeping them going!!).  I have been thinking of the ghosts of lovers past.  And the Belgian was always in the category of “the lover that never was”. 

I would fantasize about what it would have been like if we had meet up at that time.  Would it have lasted?  Would our friendship been effected?  Would I be living in Belgium now?   How would his big luscious lips feel on my body?  Would we have lived happily ever after?

These thoughts have been spiraling through my mind recently.  What if’s and could have beens have been getting me down.

So this morning I emailed the Belgian just to check in.  Friendly of course.  Just seeing how he is.  I kept it light hearted as always.  I hope that he is ok.  Because before all the confusion and the raunchy messages, he was one of my closest and dearest friends.  And for all the people that I love and care for, I just want them to be happy.

I don’t know if I will ever see him again.  Or even hear from him again, let alone kiss those luscious lips of his. 

All I have are the memories of a romance that was never to be and his words that I read now and again that keep me warm at night.

So until next time, Ragers and Ragettes, please keep your head and standards high and your heels even higher.

Lots of love

The Fabulous Betty Rage xxxx