Throughout my life I have been influenced by the women that I have mercilessly adored. It is my "Achilles Heel" or more accurately a rare strain of emotional oscillation, which ironically almost always ends up as emotional isolation. At its extreme this weakness in the "presence of femininity" has seen me converting to Catholicism and at its mildest saw me agreeing with the importance of "New Romanticism" in 80s culture. Needless to say, I am now a militant Atheist and if someone foolishly plays Spandau Ballet at a party I feel a strong urge to kill the Kemp brothers.
This urge to mimic a passion or religious zeal in my dates is clearly based upon a wonderful weakness within my personality. I freely admit this as when it comes to love I tend to test the depth of a puddle from a springboard. That is where I actually find some solace in this incurable condition. For I am the eternal optimist, who believes that the puddle is not only deep but warm. I also firmly believe, like the proverbial bullet, that there is undoubtedly someone out there for me. So even though I approach love with the same trepidation as most. Once I get a bounce from my board I am airborne and performing triple somersaults with half twists. As I hurtle like a rocket towards my very shallow icy puddle.
Anyway, back to my latest decision and its physical and mental ramifications. I recently became a Vegetarian and to the outside world that monumental gesture is currently being miss sold as a health choice and a one man effort to combat global warming. But, I am far more fickle than that. I changed my diet because of a woman. I am now in fact more soya than man. I also know what Tofu is and how best to cook with it. Two years ago that would have been like admitting that I have watched an episode of "Keeping Up With Kardashians". I would like to make it clear at this point that I have never watched an episode of this nonsense and if pressed I could not tell you which one of the women was formally a man with a very large arse.
But unlike my decision to seek enlightenment from an omniscient entity who has numerous outlets worldwide and my short and painful dalliance with Kajagoogoo. I do at least feel that this woman has given me something of value. I am losing weight and my concertina chin has been replaced by a face I remember from my past. I am sleeping better and I feel healthier and stronger. Yet even though I know it will only ultimately lead to nothing more than acute "vegetarian warming"; the glacial retreat of visceral fat from my abs. The fact that I am beginning to look more like me and less like Jabba the Hutt is emotionally gratifying.
There is no grace in my failings or crust of wisdom to, break, bless and share. I am a man who aspires to repeat his best mistakes. I do this without any hesitation and whilst being fully aware that the odds are and never will be in my favour. I am becoming the physical personification of the "final futile gesture" and I truly expect to be listed in the Oxford Dictionary as a sub entry under "Hopeless" in 2018. Be that as it may, I am and always will be the hopeless romantic and the most loyal friend. Searching for love in places that people have long since abandoned or marked as radioactive. Befriending and defending the hopeless and vulnerable.
One day I will undoubtedly die and I will drop kick that tin bucket knowing that there is no God. But I will also know that "Enjoy the Silence" by Depeche Mode, is sublimely ironic "wake music". As for whether I will still be a sad, single vegetarian; well that remains to be steamed from what remains of my new and healthier life.
