Lydia

I’ve been rushing around packing to leave today… in 3 hours to be precise. I travel a lot with my work so I’m used to packing now and I know what to take at the drop of a hat, I know what I’ll need and I’ve been on so many trips that I also know about all the things that I won’t need. For instance I am never going to use those 7 extra pairs of knickers. I used to think to myself ‘now should I just chuck a few extra pairs in?’ and now I think, but WHY!!!!??? Something bred in me from childhood I guess – always pack your knickers! So anyway, packing to leave is not too bad for me, which left me with time to write a quick post.

Today I thought I would write about my best friend Lydia, who also happens to be Harry’s sister, because she is kind of integral to my life and my story, you see if I leave Harry, I’ll pretty much be leaving her too. Maybe I’m being over-dramatic? but I just can’t imagine how we would forge any kind of true friendship out of such a mess. I mean, how would it be if Harry met someone new and had babies? I can say all I like about not loving him, but there is something about that scenario that would dent my pride and really, is it ever that easy to continue such a friendship and not cross the desire to know what that person is up to into conversations? I can see us now on the phone: stilted… long pauses… because of course deep down I would want to know if he had met someone else. Is she prettier than me? Does she have a bigger arse than me (please god say she has). But you see, I know that Lydia just would not want to be involved and so wouldn’t bring it up and instead there would just be this soft silent buzzing dominating every conversation; that unspoken tightness in the chest desperate to burst out and say ‘c’mon! tell me!’ and then of course there would be the loyalty Lydia would feel towards Harry. Blood IS thicker than water, I’m sure. And then on top of that would I feel able to tell her about any new loves if they should come my way? She just loves Harry and me being together and has often stated how she would hate it if we broke up. Another reason why I’m scared… In so many ways my life is easy. It is logical. Ordered. Easy. I know where I stand and OK so I’m not always happy with the part that I play in certain relationships, but I know where I am.

So anyway, back to Lydia. I met her at a summer drama school back in 94. I was 14, she 16. She was all lean limbs and flowing hair, ballet tights and Shakespeare. I was um, not. I was more Madonna circa 83 with lacy tights, ripped t-shirts and backcombed hair. But we gelled. I thought she was uber cool and pretty, she thought I was hilarious fun and besides, I introduced her to snakebites and roll ups… I think we needed each other to bring an important ‘other’ element to our lives – I think we still do. She’s still prim and, dare I say it, boring (I should of known really that Harry would be the same!) and I’m still unsettled and secretly always in search of that next adventure even when I know it will probably mean a mountainess climb with avalanches along the way and that I’ll probably end up buried at the end, gasping for air in a sphere of white cold.

But I love Lydia. She’s smart, she’s fun in an understated way and well, she’s always been there. She never knows the right thing to say if I’m down, but that’s OK – I don’t like talking to people who know me anyway. I think? In fact, maybe it is just that… is she just my best friend because she’s always been there? What does she actually bring to my life? Oh gosh – this blogging is really quite a strange outlet. I set out to write one thing and then it turns into another until by the end I’m asking myself whole new questions. So anyway, L.Y.D.I.A! Smart, funny, educated to the hilt and destined for big solicitor type career but who met Simon 5 years ago and has since dropped her career aspirations and power suits for a 4x4, lunch with soon-to-be yummy mummy’s and cookery classes to help perfect her domestic goddess skills in preparation for the arrival of their first child in two months… of course, another reason why I want to stick around. She tells me I need to do the same, settle down and just enjoy the fruits of my husband’s labours. Thing is, Harry doesn’t earn as much as Simon so I would be living the dream with a Corsa, Tesco yoghurts instead of M&S and BHS sheets, not Egyptian cotton – I mean Christ, am I ready to give up for humdrum? I know sometimes I feel tired and lost inside and think that even if I was single, what have I got to give? But secretly, deep down inside, I don’t want to give up. I just want to feel alive again.

Time to sign off…