Michel

In your life you have people that you just click with. Since a teenager I noticed I didn’t “click” with many people. I was different. You wouldn’t aspect that, being a gay guy in an all boys catholic school. But I was. I had an imagination that only very few could keep up with. I had a sense of humour so strange that everyone thought I was either an idiot or a freak. So back then when I did meet someone that I “clicked” with, I suffocated them. Yes, I was that Kid. That needy Kid that just wanted to make a connection with someone that didn’t either end with them, moving, leaving or dying. Sad? Totally. Understandable? I’ll let you decide.

Years on and I am in my 20s. And the friends I hold close are my brothers and sisters. They are my family. But sometimes I still feel like there is something missing, That even though my family are always close by or a phone call away, I am still very different from all of them. And I love that, I love that I am described as the strange one, quirky. “Special”. But even so, it’s lonely. It’s hard to stand alone and debate with a crowd of ten. I am but one man.

But then there’s Michelle. When I am with her I am reminded that there are only a finite about the personalities, traits and opinions in the world. She reminds me that I am not one of a kind. She fills a little bit of that hole he left behind. 

There are people in my life that I know that I was destined to meet. And sometimes when you meet these people you instantly connect; the conversation is following, you’re laughing at the right times, their laughing and the right times and then they don’t call. Hold up back up. Sorry, side issue, will get to that another time. My point is, Michel and I, we weren't these people. The ones that instantly connect.

Michel and I met when we were doing our Post Graduate Diploma in Event Management & PR. Sounds fancy? Trust me it's wasn’t. If you were a monkey that could pay the fees you could do it too. Anyhow, Michel likes to remind me about when we first met. I don’t blame her, it is after all one of the only times she comes off as the good one.

My recollection. I was there at lunch, listening to our "lecturer", engrossed in what he was saying. Hanging off every single one of his words like a little puppy. That is until Michel, rudely interrupts, asking if I wanted to go for a cig. After seeing a gestured polite no from me, Michel left the building. 

Michel's version of events. And I am ashamed to say the more accurate of the two. "No Mikey, you were there, eating the "lecturers" arse for your lunch and I was walking out when you looked at me and I asked, without sound, if you wanted to go for a cig. You then shooed, yes shooed me away with you hands. So I left.” 

Well after that terrible display on my part you may wonder how Michel and I are twins from different eggs. Simple really. Nicotine and a lot bitching is a great relationship builder. Soon we realised we had a lot in common, including both of us being dyslexic, a love for wine and a mutual hatred for stupid people. 

But in all honesty, it was a night out that did it. We had been on the course for about a month or so and a group of us went drinking. One by one they drop like flies, leaving Michel and I alone to finish what I remember to be the third or forth bottle of rosé. And we talked. I talked. She talked. I listened. She listened. We were Cadbury Cream Eggs. Hard Shells with a gooey inside. 

That night, on the Hammersmith and City train home I knew she would be standing up there with me when I get married. A year later I realised that was because we became each other's back ups. Which works out fine for me. Michel hun, you carry the 5 kids, and then I will take care on the rest. What! No Michel, I love you but no. We will use a turkey baster.  

Oh my God Michel, you could look a little more disappointed by that. I mean come on. It’s me. I could be straight. 

*Chuckle* 

See told you, I am funny 

Dedicated to the girl I believe personifies London, my friend. You know who you are.