Wednesday, 31 August 2016

She Isn't Suffering

One of my schoolfriends - the one who liked the Manics and with whom I wanted to have sex - got married last week. I know this due to Facebook. I'd like to be able to say she told me, but I genuinely can't. I haven't talked to her much since we left the sixth form and I don't think I've ever actually ascertained where she went to university, what she studied, or what she did afterwards. I do know that she once wrote a blog (I read and commented on it, quite a lot) and worked at Sainsbury's for a while.

She probably still has an MSN profile somewhere; that's how I found out she had a boyfriend initially. It's that very boyfriend - the one she managed to obtain a couple of months after leaving school having been single for that entire time - that she's gone on to marry; I know nothing about him apart from his name, which sounds like it could be a character from Glee, but he seems like a decent sort. Since they've been together for about twelve years now, that's pretty cool.

My friend was single for all those years at school because she was, although desirable, somewhat untouchable. She was pursued, romantically, by a few people (including, of course, Lightsinthesky) but nobody really acted upon it - with the exception of my portly acquaintance who used the word "tingz" non-ironically, who got up the courage to ask her out. She said no, but didn't tell anyone he'd asked, except me (I kept the secret). He ended up going out with Lightsinthesky's ex, adding yet another thread to the web of saliva that kept encircling, yet never actually managed to reach, me.

The reason I say she was untouchable is because she was the sort of person you didn't really want to disappoint. She wasn't one of the pretty, popular girls despite being both pretty and popular. She was intelligent, hard-working and had a lovely smile, hugged people and had a good taste in music. She was inspiring, funny and clever, had a snappy dress sense and great hair. She even had a distinct scent, a mix of whatever perfume she used, which was attractive on its own.

It was a formula you didn't want to mess with. Nobody made any moves towards her because it was basically impossible. You don't want to ask in case she says no and you're let down, or she says yes and suddenly you're both in completely uncharted waters. She told me once, while we sat in a room together during a school residential trip in Year 12, that she was lonely; she wanted a boyfriend so badly. And still I didn't say anything. Nobody ever did.

When I told her that I was surprised she found a boyfriend, she took it the wrong way, although I think I managed to explain it quite well. This guy, whoever he was, had managed to do in a few months what a year of three hundred had failed to do in seven years. That takes guts, courage, bravado and rather a large amount of luck. But, despite not know who he is, I like him.

Because he makes my friend happy. And she finally got what she wanted... which is marvellous.

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