LIZ JONES'S DIARY: In which I try to put myself first
The good news is I have just read a new book, about not giving a f*** about anyone but myself
My sister texted me from Edinburgh airport, on her way back to Somerset.
‘Hi Liz. Hope you are home safely. David is on his flight but I’ve got a bit longer to wait. Thank you so much for a wonderful weekend. Lots of love. xxx’
‘Hey Susie. It was a fantastic weekend, very restful. I’ve never eaten so much in my life!’
‘I hope David has not upset you and perhaps the weekend gave you a chance to re-evaluate.’
‘He’s pretty hopeless, isn’t he?’ (Over breakfast, I had called David ‘pathetic’ to my sister, in his earshot. I wonder why he came, actually. Why he is such a glutton for punishment?)
‘He was OK going to the airport but I had to make conversation. He paid for the taxi and the tram [he’d said he couldn’t walk to the tram; of course he has started smoking again]. Only you know how you feel. I get the impression he wants your relationship to continue. He said he will take you out for dinner when you are next in London.’ (He has indeed texted to say he wants to treat me, if I get a gap during London Fashion Week.)
‘He never has anything to say. [He and my sister had two conversations over breakfast about whether the porridge container was ceramic or steel. I mean, seriously.] He has no money and I can’t stay at his when I am in London.’
‘Poor David. I do feel sorry for him. How the tables have turned.’
She means I was desperate for him in 1983, and now it’s entirely the other way around.
Me: ‘Do you feel sorry for him? It wouldn’t take much to please me: ironed clothes and a clean flat.’
‘Only in so much that he is his own worst enemy.’
Me: ‘Yes, that’s true.’
‘Do you think he will ever realise what you want?’
Me: ‘He knows, but he is incapable.’
‘Maybe that is just how he is. Just like you and me. We would not be able to change now.’
Me: ‘No, he will never change.’
‘If you accept this then you can decide if your relationship is worth keeping. Only you know that. Good advice from someone who is completely single!’
I had tried really hard over the weekend to be the perfect girlfriend.
Booked a lovely room. Put on my black Myla underwear. Bitten my tongue when he turned up in a lumberjack shirt.
We were only there three days and we had sex three times! Something of a record. I have worked out David is better if we have sex in the afternoon or morning; at night, after dinner, he is too tired.
My nieces like him. They think he is laid-back and sweet.
David, unfortunately, is in my life at the end of the worst ten years I have ever had. I have lost Squeaky, Snoopy, my mum, my sister, Jess, Maggie, Lizzie. All my money.
I have spent most of the decade on the motorway with a migraine.
I wake up every morning at 4am and cannot get back to sleep.
I have had physical hardship: freezing cold, no food.
But the good news is I have just read a new book, about not giving a f*** about anyone but myself. It has really helped.
I have read a piece about making manifestations, telling the universe what I want.
The author of the book about manifestations said that you have to have a belief that you will get what you want. That you have to be patient. That the universe has your back.
I live my life in terror of the next shock and as well as not giving a f*** I’ve been trying to reassure myself: I’ve only ever worked hard; I’ve only ever tried to help others; I’ve not murdered anyone.
No wonder David can’t make me happy given what has happened to me over the past ten years. I have to stay positive. I have to have faith that everything will turn out OK. I have to believe that cream rises to the top. It has to.
And then, on Thursday morning at 11am, I had a reading with a psychic. You will not believe what she had to say.
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