Second love heart-break came in the middle of spring and at the end of my university career. It was confusing being lovelorn when the smell of jasmine wafted from the bottom of the garden on the damp, creek air. It was muddled to be devastated when the jacarandas in the hills brought all the silver eucalypti to contrasted life.
It was hard work being that mopey but I gave it a really good shot. And he helped me along by finding another girlfriend within the space of two weeks. And when I mean finding I mean, she was already waiting in the wings for her turn on stage, although I am sure that she got to play understudy a couple of times.
I had a degree that everyone jokingly said came with the words ‘Do you want fries with that?’ and I had no job. Every day I walked the River Road, where I would buy the newspaper to look for gainful employment. The walk was always balmy and breezy, no matter the time of day but walking along leaves too much room for thoughts. And introspective Piscean Literature/Creative writing graduates have an overabundance of those, especially in times of abject grief. It was beautiful and warm outside but I was cold and bleak inside, as only a 20 year-old who still lived at home with her parents could be.
I often played a game on those walks, when I wasn’t cowering from swooping magpies. I would flash myself forward 6 months and imagine the same walk. What would I be wearing? Would I have a job, a new boyfriend? I never thought to think I might not be taking the same walk, but it was my fantasy.
As I grew older sometimes I still played the game but in reverse. Pretend I was me 10 years ago, flash forwarded into this car. Would I be shocked, surprised, disappointed to see the small, dusty interior of a moderately priced car? Ooh – look! I am married! Are those my thighs? The hair isn’t bad but I am not sure about the lines around the eyes. Hey at least I have learnt how to use eye-liner. Is this what passes for music these days?
My flash forwards get smaller and chronologically correct in scope again as I wait for the next thing that an old me in a future scenario would expect. A bigger car, tired eyes and something very precious in the back seat.