I'm Normally Perfect (re-upload)

Chapter Nineteen

I bopped along to the radio whilst she kept the beat on the steering wheel. Watching Alex drum along with the songs I wondered if she danced. When we'd first met, she didn't strike me as the sort of person who'd do anything as uncouth as dance, but now I wasn't so sure of that. The pictures of her when she was younger—that person certainly knew how to dance. It made me wonder what current pictures of me would convey about my personality when I was older. Yet another reason to avoid being photographed—you never knew what lies the pictures would tell to future generations. Or the truth you didn't want revealed.

People changed too much, in my opinion, you couldn't be certain about what you were going to get. It amazed me anyone ever got married, how could you know if the person you cared for was going to remain the person you cared for? Everyone grew and changed, that was inevitable, but how could you be sure they would change and grow in a way that was complimentary to the ways you would change? It was all too much to consider. I didn't particularly believe in divorce, that's like saying, "I said I loved you and wanted to be with you forever, but I didn't mean it." I couldn't marry someone who'd been divorced, I'd always think, "But you said those exact words to someone else and now you can't stand the sight of one another."

There should be disclaimers in wedding vows because in real life there are unspoken disclaimers all the time. Like, "I promise to stay with you until death unless you turn into one of my parents or develop a drug habit or a debilitating disease." Or "I pledge my life and breath to you, unless you lose all of your money or sleep with someone else or suddenly decide you don't want children." Everybody has their own set of deal breakers, and I don't think engaged couples ever sit down and discuss the deal breakers particular to their relationship. Maybe they don't think anything is going to come between them, or believe they agree on the rules without talking about them, maybe they just don't want to think about it at all.

Most people go through their lives choosing not to ponder the hard stuff, the darker side of things, and I didn't really blame them, but if you never considered those sorts of things then you couldn't truly appreciate what you had. I made an effort to appreciate how much my life had improved in the previous year. If twelve months ago, someone had said, "Within a year, this will be your life," I'd probably tell them crack was really, really bad and to please, for the love of God, get into a treatment programme.

At least once a day I was reminded by some inconsequential thing how much happier I was. Perhaps that's what Noni meant when she said I'd grown up, I didn't feel as out of sync with the rest of the world, at least not with Alex, and it only takes one person to make you feel not alone. Usually my moments of clarity came when Alex read my mind or when I had another realisation about how much better off I was four thousand miles away from the place I grew up.

At the house, we hauled my bags to my room and Alex left me to begin unpacking saying, 'I'm going to pop down to the shops—there's nothing fresh, as I cleared everything out before I left for Tillington. Is there anything you'd like specially?'

'No. I'll help you unload the car when you get back.'

After she'd gone I wandered around the house for a bit, reminding myself that this was my home for the next year. The boxes of books I'd shipped over were stacked in the study; I wondered when she'd brought them from Tillington. I opened the curtains in the living room and sat on the sofa. Clementine plopped down at my feet and I addressed her,

'I'm staying for almost a whole year, Clem. Are you excited for me?'

She looked excited for me.

She followed me when I returned to my room to unpack. I had my clothes arranged and was contemplating my bookcases when Alex called up the stairs, that she'd returned I joined her in the kitchen and began putting things away. 'How's it going up there?'