04.11.14 (Day 317)
Remind me not to get involved with teenagers.
That sounds just a little bit dodgy. And it’s suspected sometimes that I’m more than a little bit dodgy, because of what I do; or rather what I’ve done in the past. I’ve done a lot but not what I’m sometimes suspected of or accused of. You try to help people out and it all gets thrown back in your face. I’ve provided counselling, support, practical and financial help to some of these kids but those on the outside don’t see it for what it is: nothing. Well, it’s something to a lot of them and I’m everything to a few of them but there has been no wrong doing and nothing untoward, inappropriate or illegal has gone on.
But right now, the word on the road is that one of them has talked: talked a bit too much and not been able to separate fiction (or will) from reality. And it’s me that suffers the consequences of an over-active mind; every schoolgirl’s fantasy apparently. And I’ve been on the receiving end of a concerned parent and the long arm of the law. Not given the time to tell the truth but given the opportunity to prove it respectively.
If unwanted company finds me, I’ll embrace it, even though I’m innocent of the charges being bandied around. I’m guilty of a lot of things and have been convicted but like Meatloaf, I would do anything for love but I won’t do that. But once a thief, always assumed a thief; once assumed to be doing wrong, guilty until proven innocent; proof positive being a very difficult thing to prove when doubt abounds.
The latest accusing finger to be pointed is that of a parent of one of the teenagers I’ve helped in the past. “Past” being the operative word here. The girl in question stated – in the past – that she couldn’t see me any more for fear of falling in love with me. I wouldn’t let that happen. Recently, following the loss of a friend, I have had a similar problem. I messaged the girl – as we are friends (only) – and sympathised. I’m due to attend the funeral of a friend and the love of my once-upon-a-life will also be there. I’m afraid of falling in love all over again with someone I shouldn’t.
So if it all goes tits up and pear shaped (and I’ve known many pear shaped tits, on people of appropriate age), remind me that I tried my best and I was doing right in my mind. I’d rather just forget but I can’t move on.