Thursday, November 01, 2007

Mind Bending Without Drugs


Today I will confess two of the weirder aspects of my personality in the hopes that someone else shares them. It’s got nothing to do with life in Greece, so look away now if that’s all you come here for.

The ghosts of the past are something everyone has to confront in their relationships at some point, especially when you’re me and Mr Zeus who are like chalk and cheese. I don’t know exactly how many there were before me and I don’t want to know.

The past generally doesn’t bother me, because it was the women who came before me that contributed to forming the man I am with today. It’s being reminded that there was a past that I don’t like; the ghosts of these other women lingering in the corners.

They turn up in a crack in an old mug, sprawled on the sofa, in photographs, in the kitchen. They come tumbling out of cupboards and most recently I found one in a towel. Rooting around in the towel box, I came across one lovingly embroidered with Mr Zeus’s name.

“Who made this for you?” I asked, hoping the answer would be his aunty JiJi with the mole on her chin.

“A friend, long ago.” He replied. A friend who was not male. A female friend who was not old enough to be a grandmother has to be more than a friend to put so much time and effort into an item. I folded the ghost of the Other Woman up and zipped her away with the other towels and some insect repellant. All the better to repel my imagined memories.

But our bed was the one place where these ghosts of the Other Women haunted me. In the early days, I struggled to fall asleep, thinking of who and how many had been there before me and feeling insecure. Their shadows lay between me and Mr Zeus like so many unspoken words.

Which is why yesterday’s delivery of a new mattress is on par with getting engaged for me. This one is all mine, a new base to start on. No one has been here before me. Crazy, you might think, but psychologically for me this new mattress is a relationship milestone. Currently all the other women are propped against a wall, covered in a plastic sheet and waiting to be taken to the basement. Personally, I’d like to set the thing on fire, but mustn’t grumble.

Coming to my second point, I wonder what new dreams I will spin on this new mattress. I suffer from vivid nightly dreams that have a life of their own. The other night, I was on a wide, flat beach and turned to see Rocco standing there. I hadn’t seen Rocco in years and I clung to his skinny frame, crying like a baby. We sat together on the sand catching up on our lost years. He had finally come out and was now a dance teacher and happy. I vowed not to be out of touch for so long again.

So where in Athens is this wide flat beach? Nowhere. Rocco and the beach are part of the cast of people and places that exist only in my dreams. The problem with this is that I get attached to these people, and when they disappear I am distraught. When they come back I am overjoyed. I don’t get a break from being a drama queen even in my sleep.

What I want to know is:

1) Does anyone else feel the ghosts of the past breathing down their necks in a new relationship?
2) Does anyone else meet, love, enjoy and miss people and places completely invented in their dreams.

4 comments:

AL said...

#1 yes
#2 no

:)

Grga Pitic said...

Sweetie don't go down that road, there is only pain and suffering. Love that wants exclusiveness is not love but possession...

Instead of fretting over past ghosts and trying to exorcise them out of existence (giving them more and more energy to grow into demons) use that energy to build a wonderful relationship with your man, here, now, in the present, not even thinking about the future.

Then all these "past women" will be tender memories of innocent fairies that your love for and communication with your man will dress up in splendid attire to humbly partake into the fest, where you the Queen will be presiding...

Don't miss anymore precious moments...

Anonymous said...

Rocco? ROCCO? You mean the Italian male pornstar? :)

Advice on such issues is bound to be useless but here's what I think:

Stop thinking about it (rather, them). If you dont, it gradually will start seeping into your subconscious and you may find yourself in the future making comments about them ("Oh I'm sorry that I can't sew your socks like XXX") that are bound to irritate Mr Apollo (Being Greek and having a veery high opinion of myself, I think I am Mr Zeus), poisoning your relationship.

bollybutton said...

anonymous! How would I know the name of an italian pornstar! Chee chee! I can't help what I dream about... :)

In general about the Other Women advice, you are all spot on, and as of now I shall no think of them however fleetingly. Especially since the old mattress got thrown out. Ta da!! x