Boxing Day 2007
On Boxing Day I went to Daniel and James’s house. They had entertained both parents on Christmas Day and had thus declared that Boxing Day was going to be the very antithesis of that formal family celebration. He had invited only me, and James’s best friend, Simon, to spend the day with them, doing nothing but eating, drinking and watching DVDs. I turned up at midday with two bottles of champagne and my legendary chocolate trifle.
I had been bouncing off the walls with excitement all morning, I couldn’t wait to tell Daniel about my late-night Christmas surprise. As I waited for the appointed moments for me to leave for Daniel’s house. I had been through my text exchange with Karl at least a hundred times, close-reading both his texts and my own, wondering how he would have reacted to each of my messages, hoping that my final message to him had been just cool enough to ensure that he would do as I had asked and call me as soon as the new year began. If not before. Please let it be before.
The minutes it was politely possible to drag Daniel off for a moment of boys talk, I did so, James and Simon were occupied in trying to set up the PlayStation Simon had brought with him.
‘I suppose that means we’re not going to get to watch my boxed set of ‘Mad Man'.’ Daniel sighed.
I didn’t care. I didn’t want to watch anything, I had much more interesting thing to do. I wanted to dissect my exchange with Karl with a third party. I needed a fresh opinion. I showed Daniel the ‘conversation’ on the screen of my mobile.
When he had finished reading, he looked up at me. His eyebrows were knitted together in an expression that I recognized, though I hadn’t seen it on Daniel’s face before. It was the expression my late mother’s face took on when she thought my brother or I were about to do something that worried her. Like take a sky-dive. Or inject heroin. Daniel passed the mobile back to me. He smiled wanly.
‘It’s incredible,’ I chattered. ‘I didn’t think I’d ever hear from him again. But this meant that he’s been thinking of me. He must have broken up with his boyfriend, don’t you think? He wouldn’t have got in touch with me if they were still together. I am pretty sure of that. Not on Christmas Day. He’s not that kind of guy.’
How quickly I had forgotten exactly what kind of guy he really was.
Daniel stopped me mid-flow by putting his hand on mine and pressing it gently towards the table so that I couldn’t look at the screen of my mobile, where Karl’s words still flickered. He waited until my eyes were on him and he was sure he had my full attention. It was a trick he must have used a thousand times on the kids at his hospital.
‘George, please tell me that you’re not going to take him upon his offer of meeting up.’
‘But… why shouldn’t I?’
‘Where do you want me to start? You should not be seeing that man. You should not have been answering his texts. You should not even have been reading his texts. You should have deleted them unread. Karl broke your heart, George, and you’ve spent the best part of a year acting like a headcase as a result. You almost lost your job, you almost burn down your flat, and you almost lost your best friend. And then he texts you and you agree to meet up with him. For goodness’ sake, where’s the sense in that?’
I murmured something about time and distance and closure and whatnot.
‘You got closure. When he went off with that other boy. You were getting over it. Remember how happy you were last week? What offends me most,’ he added, ‘Is that it’s not as though he even called you. He didn’t actually pick up the phone.’
‘He must have pick up the phone,’ I pointed out.
On Boxing Day I went to Daniel and James’s house. They had entertained both parents on Christmas Day and had thus declared that Boxing Day was going to be the very antithesis of that formal family celebration. He had invited only me, and James’s best friend, Simon, to spend the day with them, doing nothing but eating, drinking and watching DVDs. I turned up at midday with two bottles of champagne and my legendary chocolate trifle.
I had been bouncing off the walls with excitement all morning, I couldn’t wait to tell Daniel about my late-night Christmas surprise. As I waited for the appointed moments for me to leave for Daniel’s house. I had been through my text exchange with Karl at least a hundred times, close-reading both his texts and my own, wondering how he would have reacted to each of my messages, hoping that my final message to him had been just cool enough to ensure that he would do as I had asked and call me as soon as the new year began. If not before. Please let it be before.
The minutes it was politely possible to drag Daniel off for a moment of boys talk, I did so, James and Simon were occupied in trying to set up the PlayStation Simon had brought with him.
‘I suppose that means we’re not going to get to watch my boxed set of ‘Mad Man'.’ Daniel sighed.
I didn’t care. I didn’t want to watch anything, I had much more interesting thing to do. I wanted to dissect my exchange with Karl with a third party. I needed a fresh opinion. I showed Daniel the ‘conversation’ on the screen of my mobile.
When he had finished reading, he looked up at me. His eyebrows were knitted together in an expression that I recognized, though I hadn’t seen it on Daniel’s face before. It was the expression my late mother’s face took on when she thought my brother or I were about to do something that worried her. Like take a sky-dive. Or inject heroin. Daniel passed the mobile back to me. He smiled wanly.
‘It’s incredible,’ I chattered. ‘I didn’t think I’d ever hear from him again. But this meant that he’s been thinking of me. He must have broken up with his boyfriend, don’t you think? He wouldn’t have got in touch with me if they were still together. I am pretty sure of that. Not on Christmas Day. He’s not that kind of guy.’
How quickly I had forgotten exactly what kind of guy he really was.
Daniel stopped me mid-flow by putting his hand on mine and pressing it gently towards the table so that I couldn’t look at the screen of my mobile, where Karl’s words still flickered. He waited until my eyes were on him and he was sure he had my full attention. It was a trick he must have used a thousand times on the kids at his hospital.
‘George, please tell me that you’re not going to take him upon his offer of meeting up.’
‘But… why shouldn’t I?’
‘Where do you want me to start? You should not be seeing that man. You should not have been answering his texts. You should not even have been reading his texts. You should have deleted them unread. Karl broke your heart, George, and you’ve spent the best part of a year acting like a headcase as a result. You almost lost your job, you almost burn down your flat, and you almost lost your best friend. And then he texts you and you agree to meet up with him. For goodness’ sake, where’s the sense in that?’
I murmured something about time and distance and closure and whatnot.
‘You got closure. When he went off with that other boy. You were getting over it. Remember how happy you were last week? What offends me most,’ he added, ‘Is that it’s not as though he even called you. He didn’t actually pick up the phone.’
‘He must have pick up the phone,’ I pointed out.
‘He texted. You have to pick up the phone to text.’
‘He texted! How much effort do you think that involved? Can’t you see what’s wrong about that? It’s the most passive form of communication available. It took no effort whatsoever and involved absolutely no risk. He didn’t even bother to talk to you. He just sent you a text asking if you fancied meeting up and you agreed. If I received a text like that, I wouldn’t be in the least bit flattered. I would be less impressed than if he hadn’t bothered to get in touch at all. At least his continued silence would have suggested consistency.’
‘But he’s reaching out,’ I suggested.
‘For heaven’s sake!’ Daniel growled with disappointment.
‘If he were really serious about making amends for being such a grade-one arsehole, he would have actually dialed your number and held the phone to the side of his head and talked to you. He would have risked hearing that you were angry with him. He would have taken the time to find out how you are and perhaps even to say sorry for having let you overlap with that boy.’
‘Perhaps he plans to say that when he sees me. Face to face.’
‘If you see him,’ said Daniel, ‘I will never speak to you again.’
‘But I thought you said that nothing would ever stop us from speaking to each other again,’ I reminded him.
Daniel rolled his eyes.’ Don’t do it,’ he said in a whisper.
‘For the sake of your mental health, George. Please.’
Out of respect for Daniel’s opinion, I didn’t mention Karl’s texts for the rest of the day, but even while I got stuck into some game on the PlayStation, I still had one eye on my mobile, which I had switched to silent out of politeness. Every five minutes or so I picked it up and shook it, to check that it was still working. Just in case someone was trying to get through.
But Karl didn’t text me again. Not that day. Or the next. Or the next. Or at any time during the following week.
I spend alone on new year eve. I just didn’t felt good to see my fiends.
But midnight come and went and there was no message.
I couldn’t quite believe it. I would have put money on getting a text from Karl on New Year’s Eve. Wasn’t it an obvious excuse for an SMS? Best wishes for the new year? I tried not to be disappointed when none come. Had I been a little more perceptive, I might have seen that it was annoying to think that, had Karl not sent me his Christmas wishes. I wouldn’t even have expected to hear from him at New Year. I should have been angry with myself for having allowed that Christmas exchange to fill me with new expectations just wait to be dashed. Those expectations had ruined my evening.
It wasn’t until the 3rd of January that I finally got the text I had been waiting for. And what a text was.
‘Are you still up for getting together one evening?’
I waited ten minutes before texting back,’ yes.’
‘Great. How about next Wednesday night? Karl wrote.
‘I’ll cook.’
‘At your place?
‘Of course at my place. Do you remember where it is?
‘He texted! How much effort do you think that involved? Can’t you see what’s wrong about that? It’s the most passive form of communication available. It took no effort whatsoever and involved absolutely no risk. He didn’t even bother to talk to you. He just sent you a text asking if you fancied meeting up and you agreed. If I received a text like that, I wouldn’t be in the least bit flattered. I would be less impressed than if he hadn’t bothered to get in touch at all. At least his continued silence would have suggested consistency.’
‘But he’s reaching out,’ I suggested.
‘For heaven’s sake!’ Daniel growled with disappointment.
‘If he were really serious about making amends for being such a grade-one arsehole, he would have actually dialed your number and held the phone to the side of his head and talked to you. He would have risked hearing that you were angry with him. He would have taken the time to find out how you are and perhaps even to say sorry for having let you overlap with that boy.’
‘Perhaps he plans to say that when he sees me. Face to face.’
‘If you see him,’ said Daniel, ‘I will never speak to you again.’
‘But I thought you said that nothing would ever stop us from speaking to each other again,’ I reminded him.
Daniel rolled his eyes.’ Don’t do it,’ he said in a whisper.
‘For the sake of your mental health, George. Please.’
Out of respect for Daniel’s opinion, I didn’t mention Karl’s texts for the rest of the day, but even while I got stuck into some game on the PlayStation, I still had one eye on my mobile, which I had switched to silent out of politeness. Every five minutes or so I picked it up and shook it, to check that it was still working. Just in case someone was trying to get through.
But Karl didn’t text me again. Not that day. Or the next. Or the next. Or at any time during the following week.
I spend alone on new year eve. I just didn’t felt good to see my fiends.
But midnight come and went and there was no message.
I couldn’t quite believe it. I would have put money on getting a text from Karl on New Year’s Eve. Wasn’t it an obvious excuse for an SMS? Best wishes for the new year? I tried not to be disappointed when none come. Had I been a little more perceptive, I might have seen that it was annoying to think that, had Karl not sent me his Christmas wishes. I wouldn’t even have expected to hear from him at New Year. I should have been angry with myself for having allowed that Christmas exchange to fill me with new expectations just wait to be dashed. Those expectations had ruined my evening.
It wasn’t until the 3rd of January that I finally got the text I had been waiting for. And what a text was.
‘Are you still up for getting together one evening?’
I waited ten minutes before texting back,’ yes.’
‘Great. How about next Wednesday night? Karl wrote.
‘I’ll cook.’
‘At your place?
‘Of course at my place. Do you remember where it is?
Ops..... wait, tobe contunie.....till then.
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