The Singer II

April 23, 2010 § Leave a comment

His email was simple:


We have met before.

I’m not mad.

Months later she told him that he had lied in his message, that he was actually insane and he just laughed and reminded her that he had confessed to madness by the 3rd email. And proposed by the 3rd date. Did he have a ‘thing’ about the number 3 she wondered?

He hadn’t lied about meeting before though. Over the years they had met a few times. The first time they had been set-up by mutual friends, a proper blind date for him and the chance to actually meet a teenage crush for her.

The meeting didn’t go well, this was a regular pattern for her so she didn’t dismiss him straight away.

‘Don’t get married it’s shit’ was his opening line and at that point he tattooed Out Of Order or Not The Marrying Kind secretly on her wide unlined face just to make sure that she never did.

She sat down having only just arrived and still standing, a little shocked, in her nice coat.

She did all the talking. This to was a regular pattern for her so she didn’t dismiss him straight away.

He sat under his fringe.

Years later he was at a launch and she was there too.

‘Your girlfriend is very pretty’ he told her boyfriend within her earshot.

He then walked away from some poor fan hell bent on chatting to him about his wedding so that he could sign her book, a book that was not even about him. As he looked around for a pen she questioned him about his marriage alluding to the fan’s mention of nuptials but was ignored ‘I’m drawing you something that makes me happy’ he smiled and handed it back.

‘Your girlfriend is really very pretty’ he told, she thought, a perversely over chuffed boyfriend.

She was childishly angry and embarrassed all the way home.

She was 11 when she had first set eyes on him jerking about on Top Of The Pops and at 14 she had replaced him with a new crush she’d first seen on The Tube. It was time she grew up. After all neither TV shows even exist now.

After the first email he sent many more most of them bemoaning life, music, his lot in general all of which made her happy. When he got the answer he had dug email after email for, she could read what he wanted her to say but played the usual games, dates followed. He’d remembered what he had drawn in the book lining all those years before and told her. The cynic in her figured that he drew this image all the time, it had little to do with her or his memory but he convinced her otherwise and after finding out that she was now single this lead to her agreeing to date number one. They both had chaperones. He had one because he really needed it and hers was there because her friends were worried.

Soon after dating she started getting panicked angry emails or sorrowful apologetic ones depending on how he’d behaved the day or even hour before. After a while a pattern emerged.

She’d remind herself of email 3.

He had warned her. It was there in a saved email.

She always said the same to thing to friends and family: yes he told me that he was mad, he’s very honest I give him that! It’s refreshing don’t you think, such honesty? she’d argue with them/herself/anyone who would listen. Argue perhaps a little too much and each time with less and less conviction until one day she heard herself and didn’t believe it either.


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