on gagging the ex

My ex?-partner, C, is a libra. My daughters tell me that libras love company and the three libras I know well cannot get enough of being with people. That’s very flattering when you are in the early stages of a relationship and can’t get enough of being with the object of your affection.

C used to sit on the side of my bed with his early morning cup of coffee for a last snippet of conversation before he left for work. We used to sit on opposite sides of the little table in my room and talk and talk while he doodled cartoons and, you know, boy stuff. Guns and shit. He used to ring me every day, or several times a day, just to talk some more.

If it hadn’t been for the fact that there are two versions of C that became affectionately known as C3 and C4 (due to the explosive nature of C4), those days would have been a romantic dream. And the dream still exists. C still loves my company as much as he ever did.

Which is pretty astonishing since I have succeeded in establishing a few rules these days around our encounters:

1. C4 is not allowed within 500 metres of me. It’s no C4 or altogether no C in my life. He can choose.
2. No conversation on, about, or remotely concerning camouflage, boots or 4wd vehicles.
3. No conversation about guns and shit.
4. No conspiracy theories or predictions of global doom or gloom.
5. No conversation about anything that doesn’t interest me.
6. No more than one (1) phone call a day. Texts, unlimited.
7. No talking while the TV is on.
8. No talking while I am reading a book.
9. No talking while I am on the internet.
10. No talking while I am working.
11. No talking when I am asleep.

I might as well tape his mouth when he walks in the door. Why does he still want to come here? Why do I still want him to come here, more to the point?

Obviously I’m quite happy for him to leave and would be ecstatic if he found a new lover before I move to Adelaide because I don’t like feeling that he will be lonely and not have anyone to TALK to. But you know what’s weird? I still love having him around. I still have a lot of affection for him, love the aura he brings into a room. It would be so much better if I could seriously use the aforementioned mouth tape, but it’s lovely anyway.

Point being, Hilary’s Heaven will have no one in it all day until approximately 7pm. I love my own company, love silence and thoughts and shit, love the uninterrupted pursuit of my own projects. And then I feel a bit of a nudge from my company-meter as the sun goes down.

I am not a libra. Or did you already guess that?