kingdom come

I went for a walk this morning (not technically morning, since it was 12.30). On the way back I bumped into one of the dog-walkers whom I frequently see. I am awful with names, and can't remember his. He's told me a least twice. The last time I saw him he asked me out to dinner (I declined). He asked me twice again today. I declined. He also asked me to move in with him. Wey hey! you think. Well, no.

I am so desperate for conversation that I will talk to almost anyone - see recent post when I had almost reached home, and turned around and went for an hour-long walk with my neighbour, for such an example. I only do this with non-threatening people. I don't talk to the handsome tall skinny dog-walker in green wellies I've seen weekly for nearly two years. I instead talk to the little roly-poly man with the bright pink cheeks and the football scarf. And guess which one has asked me to dinner?

I feel that unless I explain why not, someone will ask Why don't you have dinner with him?. Oh God. OK. Well, anyone reading my weblog will know that I don't have a high opinion of myself, so by me saying that er... he isn't my type... will know that no conceit lies behind this. If I compared him to me it would sound like I think myself too good for him. But I think there is some truth in that.

Having said that... we did stand on the lookout, with the bridges on view and have the following conversation:

Him: did you hear about the jumper off the road bridge?
Me: That woman, last week, during peak hour?
Him: No. That bird was up on the wires, and they closed the bridge til she came down. This was a bloke, and he jumped. I think it was Boxing Day.
Me: Boxing Day? That was yesterday. I hate Boxing Day.
Him: No, it must have been Christmas Day then. He survived. The coastguard fished him out. He died in hospital though.
Me: Fuck. I hate that bridge. He jumped and it didn't even kill him. How unfair.
Him: Yeah. It must be pretty bad to think of doing that.
[Me to myself: he thinks it is unfair that the guy needed to jump. Wheareas I was saying that it is unfair that he jumped, and that it didn't work, and instead he died in hospital. He'd lost control of how/when he died - isn't that why people kill themselves?]
Me: Do many people jump, do you think?
Him: Yeah... a lot more than get into the newspapers. Now, sure you don't want to go for an Indian?

I hate it so much when people say that they don't understand how someone could jump. The implication is that the person must be weak. The dog-walker implied this. An esteemed fellow blogger implied this. My father implied this when told me that even if my mother died he would never kill himself - nothing would ever be so bad to kill himself.

OK, I'd have said the same thing X years ago. But now I'd say to them There but for the grace of God go you. Things can change. And they won't change quickly either. It will be slow, and erosive. You will gradually become used to becoming a shell, of yourself. And it will be then that you'll learn what it feels like to fight against yourself to stay alive.

I give you life. I give you death. Choose life.
I will. I promise I will.