Filters

This week I’ve begun to feel a little bit like a character from a romantic comedy. This may sound interesting, but let me tell you something about romantic comedies - they don’t normally become romantic or happy until the end. Trust me, I've watched an uncomfortably high number of them!  Most have the lead protagonist (that’s me in this case), running around embarrassing himself (I’m focusing on the male figures), for three quarters of the film, or book, before good things begin to happen. That’s a lot of craziness. That’s a lot of humiliation. The level of humiliation, embarrassment and the general plot depend on the type of Rom-Com you’re reading or watching. In Richard Curtis films, the lead is normally clumsy, clueless, and Hugh Grant. He acts loveable, honourable, and goofy, and then bang, around one hour and twenty five minutes later, he gets the girl. Other variations are the Nick Hornby male lead. His characters are normally less likeable, self obsessed and a little neurotic. However, they tend to be quite changeable - your basic rogue turned good. Finally there’s your David Nicholas books, your ‘One Days’ or ‘Starter for Tens’. His male leads are normally a cross between Richard and Nicks. They tend to be clumsy and awkward but also not in an endearing way. These are the characters that compel you to shout at either your book, or the television in the case of the film adaptation “What are you doing you fucking moron?!”. What makes his characters so infuriating is that they all make obvious mistakes. Mistakes which any rational, normal person would steer a mile clear from. Right? Wrong! This is why his characters and books are so good. They highlight the flaws, which sadly we all make.

At this moment the rain is pouring down outside. It’s cold, wet, and dark. In the cinematic release of my romantic comedy I would probably be walking in it, following some dramatic episode. Fortunately I’m in doors writing this, with a cup of tea listening to Miles Davis. Jazz I hear you say, do you really listen to Jazz? Yes I do really listen to Jazz, or at least I am listening to Jazz. Do I listen to it normally? Well no. I do not understand it, and I’m not sure I even enjoy it. I do however think it fit’s my current ambiguous mood. And sometimes you have to get these moods by the metaphorical bull horns and ride them. Or not, whichever suits you.

So anyway, I was telling you about my week. I was pouring my heart out to the mythical gods of social media and their minions. After almost a year out of “the game”, so to speak, I thought it was about time I stepped up to the plate again. I haven’t seriously dated anyone for longer than that actually, but that’s not too important. The thing to probably take from the last three sentences is I’ve been single for a while, and recently I’ve made motions to change that. One thing has become clear though - I’m rusty, really rusty. Now before your brain descends to the gutters, let me say not in a literal sense. How so, you may then wonder. Well simply, my gauge of acceptability has been somewhat jaded, by the simple fact I’ve spent most of the time over the past year with my friends. Basically with people who I like, share the same or similar values with and who I can talk to about almost anything. No matter how stupid or inappropriate. What I’ve failed to remember over the last month were all the lessons I learnt at University.

My first two years at University were great. I loved almost every minute, but what I seldom tend to reflect on, which I have a little in the past few days, was how often I found myself falling out with girls. I’m not a perfect guy, but I’m sure as hell not a complete asshole either. I saw men without any looks, intelligence, charm or grace, pull girls at University and continue to date them, whilst I seemed to have very limited success. I never really had an issue meeting girls during those first two years, but that’s more because halls of residence is a goldfish bowl of young men and women, who are all horny as hell. I did however have difficulty maintaining a prolonged level of interest. At least at the beginning. I found, slightly embarrassingly, that I trusted women I’d slept with or dated indiscriminately early on. I also have a terrible habit of talking rubbish dear reader, particularly when I’m drinking or drunk. Which in those two years was about sixty percent of the time. The upshot of all these things is that during this time I would talk rubbish to the girls I liked, and it was, for lack of a better description, tragic. When I liked someone I told them. There was no coolness. When I wasn’t that interested I told them. There was too much coolness. When I wasn’t sure, I told them. There was no nonsense.

Believe it or not, I’m actually not a complete tit. I am however a terrible liar and do tend to say exactly what’s on my mind. My problem, or one of my problems, is that my mind frequently tended to change its position or stance on things. This made most of my partners, during my fledging adult years, confused, and often a little annoyed. I had no filter, I couldn’t determine what was appropriate to say to a girl I was dating and what was not. I’d say something that I thought was witty and smart, but once verbalised, I realised was totally inappropriate. The girl would also realise, and more often than not I found myself in hot water. My speciality was the throwaway comment. Often which not only betrayed the truth but more importantly my true feelings. If I were to guess I probably broke up, or messed something up with around six girls in those two years, due to simple misunderstandings. Another thing I also didn’t grasp in those early days, and this is very important, is that you don’t talk to a new partner like you would a best friend. The word new is very important here, because I think long terms partners should be like your best friend, in terms of relationship and openness. Fortunately, my ineptitude didn’t last forever. After a few uncomfortable years in the dating arena, a couple of incredibly patient women helped me out, guided me a little bit, and helped me to see I needed to start at the beginning. You build trust. You build friendship. And if you’re lucky and it’s meant to be, you may one day be able to tell that person the stuff you tell regular mates. I’d like to just state for the record that I’m not advocating not being yourself. I’m not saying don’t be free with your feelings. I am saying that maybe in the first little while, put a cap on it. 

So back to the present. The filter which I managed to establish during the later University years seems to have completely gone. I once again am seemingly incapable of not saying almost everything that’s in my head. Only now it’s worse because I’m older and should know better. Over the last few months, my brain has far too often committed itself to something it doesn’t agree with. I’ve made quips about the ‘unquipable’. And I’ve uttered at least once in the last fortnight the words “by the way, I’m normally a lot cooler than this”. I have been a nightmare. What’s made it all the more frustrating is that the entire time I’ve never acted with malice, or ill intent. I just haven’t controlled the traffic which has passed out of my mouth. I also think a lot of it’s down to an inherent eagerness to please. I say what’s on my mind because at that exact moment I think it seems ‘right’. In reality if I’d paused to think about it for a second I would realise it wasn’t.

It’s not really a surprise to anyone who knows me, or reads this blog often, but I’m an old romantic at heart. There’s always been a tiny part of me that’s wanted to say a cool one liner like Jack Nicholson in ‘As Good as It Gets’. Something like “you make me want to be a better man”...and it have the desired effect. Sadly, I’ve come to the conclusion that that’s not particularly realistic. You can’t say stuff like that to people without them thinking you’re a bit weird. Maybe I am a bit weird, who knows. I’m also not sure if I’m a Richard Curtis, a Nick Hornby or David Nicholas type character yet, but that doesn’t matter really. The lessons from each one of their lead men was always pretty clear, and I need to take note. Be less of a jack-ass at the beginning of the story!