When You Least Expect It

July 22, 2011 § 8 Comments

That’s another thing people always say to me.  Always.  “Don’t think about it and it will happen when you least expect it.”

They tell me that I’ll be waiting for a bus and suddenly some man will ask me the time and… Or I will be doing something completely unrelated to romance, some work thing or other, and Mr Right will suddenly become manifest like a creature in a movie. Or like happened to divorced Susie, she met someone at a party, an old friend she hadn’t seen for twenty years and he had never happened to get married and…tra la!…kaboom!… in love…they are now married and living happily ever after.  I have heard a million stories of women  – planktons! – who have found the loves of their lives when they were Least Expecting It.

The sad fuck of it is, I am never expecting it.  I have been brainwashed by all these folk into giving up ever expecting it, and now I am Least Expecting it the whole bloody time and wherever I go.  And still it never happens.

I know people are trying to be kind, but it’s a platitude, isn’t it?  And one that is meant well but full of shit.  It is like telling a woman who is trying to conceive and not managing to do so, not to think about it.  What the fuck is that about?  Of course, there is nothing else she can think of on earth that is so important and crucial and visceral.  Don’t think about it, my arse.  What kind of advice is that when her very breaths are in, preg, out, nant?

As I am sure I have said, I get on with my life and day to day I am busy and happy.  Without wishing to overegg the pudding but at the same time very anxious not to appear ungrateful, I know I am blessed.  Blessed with the most heavenly children on earth – at least I think they are – who just by their very being make me (embarrassing mother) want to hug and kiss them all day long and tell them how much I love them.  My family is fractured and extended and imperfect and bonkers and bliss and infuriating and hilarious and I love it to bits.  My life-long passion has been my friends.  Because I love people and show it and mean it, I am very lucky in that I manage to make friends easily (I hope that doesn’t sound too arsey), and keep them and continue to love them. This is definitely going to sound arsey, but I really do have hundreds of friends and I mean the real type not the Facebook type (I am not on Facebook) who give me an inordinate amount of joy and support, and I hope I do them too.  My work makes me feel jittery with pleasure a lot of the time, as if I have drunk too much coffee.  I am lottery-winner lucky in what I do.  I lead a life in which I get to hang out with those I love, read great books, eat fabulous food, sleep in the most comfortable bed in all England (who doesn’t think that about their bed?).  It’s all Good.

And every minute of every day I promise you I am Least Expecting It.  When I go to the café for my daily latte; when I am waiting for the bus; when I go to a small supper or some fuck off party; when I nip to the Post Office; when I step on a plane (not often); when I go to the school play; when I hit a festival; when I check into a hotel and sit in the bar (actually, I rarely go to hotels, or bars); when I go on a run or walk (I never do go on a walk, but if I were to go on one); or enter a lift in a swanky skyscraper (almost never); when I visit my lawyer in his City office (and might run into divorcing male clients but somehow never do); when I go to a wedding or funeral; when I attend a 50th; when I join friends at the movies/theatre/a restaurant; when I am taken to some event or give or listen to a talk; when I watch one of my children in a match; when I get mates round for coffee/lunch/tea/drinks/supper or to stay; when I interview someone I have never met; when I go to a meeting; or take off on holiday with friends; or visit others for the weekend in the country; when I linger in the yoghurts aisle reading nutrition labels; when I stop in front of a painting in a gallery; when I browse in a book shop; in fact whenever I step outside my front door, day or night, I am never not Least Expecting It.

And It still ain’t happening.

How can I Least Expect It any more than I already do?

Even if that is not to say, somewhere, deep inside me there miraculously remains still a smidgen, a molecule, an atom of hope.

Is that allowed, People with Platitudes, or should the Least Expecting It preclude even that?

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§ 8 Responses to When You Least Expect It

  • SARTM says:

    You are aloud, of course. Yes, defo. Indisputably… although…maybe not.
    I’m very indecisive on Fridays.

  • SARTM says:

    btw – glad youre not on Facebook. Me either. Some of my friends are obsessed with it. Know what I mean? I think it should be called Faceless. Or Faceache.

  • Trish says:

    …………………………………….
    Hi very interesting reading and full of truth. I too hope to meet someone am full of love and a nice caring person but like you its not happening but there is still a glimmer of hope that one day I may. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life on my own and as my chiildren are growing up I now realise how lonely I am and would love that someone special in my life. Eventhough I have been really hurt in the past I still believe in love and hope that my soulmate is still going to come into my life somehow. We must never give up as frustrating as it is at times, I don’t think I ever will.

  • There are quite a few people in this world who write about various aspects of sexual frustrations- I’ve never seen anything nearly so eloquent, sort of semi- poetic, and this is a truly unique approach- You’re quite obviously a VERY talented writer, whoever you are, whatever you are and whatever you do for a living…

  • asjbendall. says:

    If so many friends and so much enthusiasm for life, rememember you still need good health, plus as with terrorism, you never know when it will strike, tragically as in Norway today. With life we build on our experiences and trust in our choices at times offering worldly wise help or opinions to those who might like to consider such offerings. They can be dismissed, even laughed at, or put down with descriptive words, however, I have seen death through suicide, terrorism, illness, family grief, personnel broken by extremes, and all encouragements offered so far from myself are nither trite or platitudes. They have offered a down to earth account of the real world with suggestions and support, the truth sometimes hurts when people have seen the wider real world.

  • MissBates says:

    You are a terrific writer. (Also, I imagine, when you are Least Expecting It….)

  • Sara says:

    Actually, it is not possible to have have that many real friends – the time in the day is just not there to do all that it entails to be a real friend to all those people. You do sound full of yourself actually. You also seem obsessed by the idea of men. Nevermind what they think of you; have you seriously looked at the men around you? Fat, decrepit old bores and you really want one of those in your life? I have one. I am the same age as you and he is 12 years older. He likes me a lot apparently. One reason being because I look younger than my years. He looks older than his, so why the hell does he think such a boring ugly person as he is has a right to me? Anyway he wore me down so I do sleep with him. My was he bad. But now I have taught him to be quite good but he has no idea why and sometimes he forgets. So, I allow him to stick around for the sex.

    Every thing else I can’t stand. He is arrogant, ugly, fat so boring you hardly know he is alive. I’ve dumped him many times – and go back for the sex. But you know what, I would seriously watch paint dry than spend normal time with him. I looked around this weekend and ALL men of a certain age are fat, ugly and very very unattractive. I did not see a single one that was not. Women are far more attractive as they age than men. It is just a shame no one realises that. Men look at themselves in the mirror and just do not register the changes that are there. Conversley women worry all the time. They think they are entitled to the younger woman. Well stuff them; they are not even worthy of one the same age or older. They are truly shambolic. Do yourself a favour. Enjoy the life you have – it is better than the one you would have with a man. The grass most definitely is not greener you know. The other man who showed most interest in me recently had stalkerish tendencies. They are both the weird sort – never married, shut themselves off from dating for years etc. There is a reason no one wants this kind of man. But even they think themselves better than the avverage woman. The facts are there. Men want younger women. However, when I was one myself the last thing I wanted was an old man. So men do not always get what they want either. So, do get over seeing yourself as hard done by. You are lucky! lucky! lucky! The women free of these uglies are so much more unfortunate than women stuck with them through years of habit. Quite frankly they are often disgusting. You are better off alone. In case you are wondering, I have dumped mine. It was like having sex with a machine – I could not get involved in any way. I could hardly bare to touch him even though I could get around that to receive sexual attentions from him to me. Worse though was the sense of utter tedium and stagnation. ANYTHING at all would be more interesting than he was. It was difficult to have anykind of conversation with him as everything was so black and white; irony was lost on him and sarcasm way of his head (if you said you could eat a horse, he thought you meant it.) Looking forward to many years of being alone.

    • Josie says:

      Sara – from your last few sentences, he sounds like he could have Asperger’s Syndrome… just like my ex. turned out to have. Seriously. I’m not being flippant – look it up. I think a lot of the ‘the weird sort – never married, shut themselves off from dating for years..’ do, in fact, have Asperger’s. If your description rings a bell with any other readers, there’s a Yahoo! group called ‘AspergersAndOtherHalf’ for female partners and ex-partners of such men – it just about saved my sanity.

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