For someone I feel emotions for … Peckham schoolgirl. —–. Leyla in 5th Avenue. But my love for —— precludes me really feeling anything for anyone else.
In the Lyceum Tavern Monday, an old couple came in so the man could use the loos upstairs, and she sat at table by window, long bright green coat, red gloves, red hat with white fur around it, dressed up for Christmas. Old in her 70s maybe, but still dressing up for Christmas. Man came down and tenderly asked her if she was sure she didn’t need toilet, then they went off together. That touched me so much and made me think of —–, and how I always wanted us to be that old couple still together, still in love.
Publishing my Double Life (2011) notes again, it is so clear how without her I would never have been happy in the rest of my life; it would have remained the greatest missed opportunity of my life; I thank god and thank her that we had the chance to be together at last. It was the ultimate monkey off my back.
Looking through my Justice Palace document unexpectedly came across picture of —— with —— at that nightclub; shocking how beautiful and sexy —— looks, in that white jumpsuit with amazing booty. Christ can you believe I was living with such a beautiful sexy funny woman. She is gob-smacking.
I still wear my ring, because it is the only thing I have ever achieved in my life (even though she says she flushed her one down the lavatory). I found a woman I loved, who loved me back, and wanted to put a ring on my finger. I cannot see any other achievement in my life apart from that. I do have a good job now–£–,000 a year; that means an awful lot to me, too. Belgian soldiers on the streets of Brussels fascinate me; they don’t look like Belgians. They are too tall, too strong, too muscular. They look like an alien species. I never see Belgian men like this normally. In London it is different. You see lots of tough, brawny, tall, strong men in their office suits and ties; but in Belgium I never see men like this, except the soldiers.
What a miracle of my life—the central miracle of my life—that —— fell in love with me and wanted me to come back to her. The most extraordinary event of my life. Extraordinary even she let me into her life in the first place; but later, to then want me to come back. She changed her mind later, of course, but it doesn’t matter. The other miracle of course, my mother. Two amazing miracles of my life; I can only feel blessed and lucky and grateful. Because of these two women, when I die I will look back and think I had a lovely life—because of them.
Fascinating to just read through my Alice stuff. Brilliant powerful stuff about the agonising decision whether to end my marriage or carry on prolonging it, prolonging the relationship with the woman I love more than anything in the world or regaining my “freedom” & loneliness & cold icy air of the mountains. I think I’m ready to work on this book now and get it up on Amazon.
The only regret I feel from my marriage is that we did not make Phoebe. I feel like she must be angry at us, “mummy and daddy, why have you still not made me yet! I would love you so much!”. And she would be a lovely quiet little girl, like her daddy, not loud & manic like her mother. I have the horrible feeling that if I ever did have a child with another woman, I would never really love her, because I should have made her with ——.