Stargazer

D's telling me how bad she feels about her recent breakup.

D is one of the few air stewardesses who rebelled and left the service when she found herself growing into the routine and her brain atrophying from lack of use - and didn't like it.

So, she says, looking at me with those huge, hyponotic liquid lemur eyes of hers - he's the kind of guy who stays home a lot moping by his lonesome.

He's all torn up about the breakup while she's doing okay, going out every night and generally having a great time, and it makes her feel guilty, you see.

I watch her and nod sympathetically, and think : is it really any better? Going out loads with new people I barely know? Is it any better if neither of us is acting terminally-wounded bleeding-heart soldier, but if there's a common spring of sadness oozing steadily away somewhere beneath the mutually happyish veneers?

D goes on to say that she's still friends with most of her exs. I shake my head as I walk, saying I just can't understand how she does it, I've tried just the once and it wasn't good.

*****
We were at your place, which oddly looked exactly like my room.

We were rather stilted and awkward at first, but you started telling me something scandelous about your friends, and as I prompted you for more details you became more and more excited,and were in full swing when there was a knock - just once - on the open door, and then someone strode in stage left. Through that door which opens inwards, which looks exactly like my bedroom door.

He was tall with very short cropped hair, and his body language and puzzlement at finding me here in your room which looked exactly like my room made it very obvious who he was. I remember feeling startled as well, since you hadn't told me you were already going out with someone new.

And then I woke up.

*****
That's Aldebaron, he said, his voice passionate with interest, with just a hint of a smirk on it (I actually glanced sideways as he said it to check, but no, his face was blank)

And then MM said exactly what I was thinking - the way she always seems to - "Whoa! That was kind of sexy!" and glanced at me.

And then we laughed, and I confessed to thinking most un-manly thoughts.

He said well yeah, I tried it on MM but it just didn't work... and MM said quietly, it did at the time, for a moment.

K the bar owner doesn't quite understand; introducing his slew of sexy-bevy beauties to me - that I don't gun for cool impassive obvious ephemeral beauty, but rather for quirky, slightly unstable funny types who're easy to speak to.

I used to imagine it was because said types were good communicators, but watching MM I realise it's because I'm like that myself - MM put her finger on it, remarking that I get on so well with her nutty friends who have taken so quickly to me, which by extrapolation of logic makes me a nutty type myself.

That's precisely it : I understand her; there's just no effort required to follow her train of thought.

Birds of a feather, nuts of a shell.