There you are

There You Are

Wow. Just look at it. I mean, really look at it. I love watching the stars and on nights like tonight the sky reminds me of a cathedral dome and the stars are so bright and twinkly I’d say they are more beautiful than the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. And it’s warm tonight too. You know the best way of stargazing is to be flat on your back on the beach, right? Mind you, even that can be unpleasant when the dampness of the pebbles starts seeping into your clothes. And I’ve already got a bad back. Oh, my God. That sound of the waves brushing the shingle ‘shush, shush’. There really is nowhere I’d rather be. I’ve got a black velvet blanket over me, the sea soothing my spirits, the whisper of warm air to tickle my skin and the stars to keep me company with their myths and legends.

Amazing isn’t it? Have you noticed that you don’t see the edges when you look at the sky, do you? (Bloody hell, imagine if you did!) It’s like looking at the horizon from somewhere in the Pacific Ocean, no end in sight. Not here though. If you look across the English Channel you’ll see Calais and that’s not quite the same thing I had in mind. It’s a very sobering thought, realising how small and insignificant you are amid all this vastness. I don’t mean insignificant as a person (the vast oceans are made up of an infinite number of tiny drops aren’t they) but compared to the ages of the stars, the seas, the mountains, forests and deserts, we are pretty unimportant aren’t we? Well, I say that but we humans cause such a lot of damage to this planet, in a perverse way we are extremely important. I nearly said our planet then. It’s not though is it? I’m sure I recall someone saying that we are merely custodians of Earth. Not doing a very good job are we? And another thing, what if we were downgraded like Pluto (the planet, not the dog)? Not a planet anymore, just a star. I think it sounds lovely, living on a star. I wonder if humans would treat it better if they were told we no longer live on planet Earth and that henceforth we live on the Star Optima Tenete? Ha, ha. I don’t speak much Latin and Optima Tenete was my school motto. It means ‘hold on to the best’ I think. Quite appropriate when you’re talking about climate change and environmental damage. Should have had that in mind a long time ago.

It does make you think, doesn’t it? The blink of an eye in which we exist. Do you think we expect too much? In our short lives we go to school to become educated so that we can get jobs and contribute to society and our rewards are what? A house? A car? Two holidays a year? Kids today are offered the whole bloody world but how many of them will ever actually get to experience scuba diving in the Maldives? Or take a selfie on safari? Or, and let’s be honest here, just get on the property ladder? To me it all seems available yet unachievable and ultimately unnecessary. So, what is really essential to having a contented life? I don’t know. I’m not about to reveal the meaning of life or anything, I’m just wondering. I was reading a love story recently set in a post-apocalyptic world (weird but it was a great story). People had nothing. There were no utilities or supermarkets, TV or politicians and no-one knocking at the front door demanding your time or money because people had no doors to knock on. But the protagonists had each other and that was everything. Whatever else they needed they found a way to get it but the physical human touches they had together were the centre of their new world.

Ahh, love. Makes the world go round they say. It’s actually momentum, did you know that? That makes the world rotate. See, now there’s something else, tainted like the planet. Love. I like looking back at the good old days when we didn’t live in a disposable society like we do now. People looked after their belongings because they couldn’t pop to Poundland for a replacement £1 plate or cup or whatever. And they had the same attitude to marriage. Work at it. Make sacrifices for it. I know not every marriage had a happy ending and divorces have been around for centuries but it is the general sense of seriousness that seems rather lacking these days. If you break a plate, buy another. Marriage failing? Get divorced. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not criticising anyone – I’m divorced myself. In fact, there are a lot of divorces in my family. An awful lot. Perhaps that’s why I’m fifty-one and still dream about perfect relationships. I’m writing a story actually about two men, Sacha and Greg. Their love is absolutely flawless. It’s all consuming, loving, filthy, understanding and committed. And before you say anything I know ‘perfect’ doesn’t exist in the real world of love and marriage. But this is my fictitious world in which I am voyeur, watching two perfect men live their perfect lives. Sometimes I wish they were real. Honestly. Because we’d have a perfect relationship. We’d make each other happy and love each other with no conditions attached. And they are absolutely gorgeous of course. Sigh. I do think it’s possible to have perfect moments though. You know, when all the stars align and someone has lifted the mantle of life’s responsibilities so that all you can feel is that other person (or persons). Sad isn’t it? Am I tragically pathetic? All I want is for people just to love. Love the planet, love the animals, love each other and be passionate about all of it. Bloody hell these pebbles are not really conducive to a night’s stargazing. They’re really digging into my back now. Anyway, as I was saying, most of all (and rather selfishly) I wish for someone who’s nearly perfect to love me nearly perfectly. Ouch, I’m going to have to turn over.

Oh, there you are.