Tuesday, January 24, 2012

This is going to sound dreadful but sometimes I wish people purely wanted friendship from me, not my body nor a physical relationship. I have whined about this to the olive-skinned brunette a few times who just laughs in my face, and the nun writes letters to me telling me to keep chaste until I find someone worth having.

It's such a ridiculous problem, but I miss the company of Armiger and the Court Jester, the musician, Gameskeeper and Brewer, each a gentleman and close friend in their own right, without the rigours of amorous play... Maybe I shouldn't include the musician, but he was the one that wanted friendship and I took that for granted.

Now I have met wonderful Antipodean men, each with incredible stories to tell, short quips to make me laugh and the time and enthusiasm to show me the country I am slowly falling in love with, but they drown me in attentions I do not want.

Can a man and woman not be friends in this part of the world without some sort of sexual intention?

I feel objectified, as if I am nothing more than a future plaything for some gentleman, courting me with a furore that English men lack. At first I enjoyed the not-so-subtle intentions but it has become tedious for I can do no chasing when it is offered to me on a plate. 

I suppose this is why I still have feelings for the Captain. I had to fight for him. I have to fight for him still. Though I refuse to ruin our new-found friendship to satisfy my lust... (Though I know I'm being flippant, he means more to me than just a roll in the hay.)

But he has made it clear that friendship is all he wants, and though I am a little disappointed, more of me is relieved to have him back in my life at all. There was a moment when I thought I'd destroyed any semblance of a relationship with him and it hurt to think it was of my own doing. 

I know how fortunate I am to call him my friend, and in my final few months in the Antipodes I plan on keeping it that way. The Captain will be my refuge as we slowly build our friendship again. Lord knows how I've missed him.


D. S.