The man who can't be moved

Or whatever...

A couple of years and a bit ago, there was a song in the charts by the Irish group The Script called The man who can't be moved.  The singer told the sorry tale of breaking up with his girlfriend and, hoping that one day she'd change her mind and want to find him, he'd be there on the corner where they used to meet.

Awwww, what a sentiment.

Shortly after, they followed this sorry tale up with Break even; a song about a bloke being dumped by his girlfriend "I'm still alive, but I'm barely breathing.... I got time while she's got freedom... when a heart breaks, it don't break even". 

Well, he was still hurting, obviously.  As I was at the time - things were still terribly painful for me after my own horrible break up and no, when a heart breaks, it don't break even.  Not when your ex other half is a complete twat who dumps you for somebody else then rubs your face in it while you're still sharing a house. 

But two years on, during which time I eventually got myself back on track and met somebody wonderful and found myself happier than I've ever been, Mr The Script is STILL going on about breaking up with his girlfriend... for fuck's sake.

Talk you down (2009) - yep, she's breaking up with him still

Before the worst (2009) - still trying to persuade her not to break up with him

For the first time (2010) - now they're drunk, and wondering whether they can make it work

Nothing (2010) - his mates take him for a drink because he's broken up with his girlfriend, he gets pissed and starts shouting around the streets, trying to persuade her to take him back

Now, Mr Script, can I suggest something to you?  She doesn't want you.  I could've told you this in 2008 because, after a few weeks of begging somebody to change their mind, you actually know in your heart of hearts that you lost them as soon as they took somebody else's phone number.  Just move on.  Get some counselling.  Have a rebound shag.  But move on, she doesn't want you.

I think Mr The Script should listen to some B52s, turn his hand to writing songs about out of control parties, shopping malls, sea creatures and the like.

Misery
I wouldn't say that I'm feeling miserable as such, just a little fed up.  There's nothing to make you feel quite so alone as when you're left to wonder why there's a tree in your dining room; we got the Christmas tree at the weekend and Ali decorated it beautifully.  I recalled crushing one of the LED Christmas lights last year after noticing that a few of the diodes remained unlit.  But with just me being here, with me being on my own here for the next few weeks, I can't help think it's a bit odd to have a tree where Deirdre the sideboard should be.

Winter isn't treating me well this year.  The darkness that descended in September has had an usually adverse effect on my mood; I am constantly tired and achy.  And it's fucking freezing. But at least I have an electric blanket.  And the love of a wonderful woman and a smelly little dog.

At least I don't make a wanky Christmas card out of these shots

Fuck, my dining room has turned into Narnia!

I might be a bit miserable because of weekly separation from the person I want to be with, but at least I have her.  I count myself very lucky every day.

Now, I wonder if I can attack the little dog's dew claw while he's sleeping....