Did I mention I turned 30? I didn’t think I
had. The thing with milestones is all your schoolmates hit them too, (let’s not
mention the 'milestone moments' of six 2016 weddings or babies) but the age thing – we all get there at the same point. Last week my
school friend Rae hit 30, and like every moment we look back and assess, with misty eyes and longing, it’s for Rae and I driving through Tunbridge
Wells at 3am playing Busted as loud as my dad’s ford fiesta speakers would go.
I’ll tell you – that's still loud enough to be embarrassing.
I was going to now write a bit with Busted
lyrics. But realised that was mental. So I popped some Adele on and gazed out
the window for a minute or two. (Also mental.)
GOD – she ain’t a happy bunny huh? I mean,
we’ve all been burnt love. But then again – Adele has made millions, selling
more records than people who know what records ARE could actually buy. But you know,
what’s wrong with a woman making so much out of a bad situation? I can’t tell
you how much I’ve said yes to, how much has changed since my heart was broken.
Since my breastbone was sliced down the centre from my neck to my belly button,
my ribs broken out the way, and my vital organ pulled out and smashed through a
mincer… (one of those old-fashioned ones that you work by hand for those asking.)
Then the stringy mess roughly plopped back in and just left to heal – people around me
variously and generously propping me up at those moments it failed me again.
But you know? Even if that level of pain is
grossly underrated in the way it can change your life, ironically, for better,
or worse, for richer, for poorer. I’d not change it now.
***
When I was 18 storming across a town I
hated with a girl I loved, I knew those were moments that I would never forget.
Like Busted – and many, many angst ridden
youths – for so long I have wondered where I fit. SO, it’s time. Allow me to
channel a little of pop’s optimism. Hey – I could get with an air hostess if I
wanted to. So. Imma sand down the edges, soften that glare and listen out. No more sighing over my scars – the only way they will heal is
if I open myself up to someone else getting in there.
All I want really is to fall in love again. Cute huh. So maybe that’s what I
should go to school for.
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