Since I was a child I have had imaginary friends and playmates. Up until this morning in fact. Today I have to report how dramatically I’ve gone off Daniel Craig. He looks so ordinary walking through the snow with his new squeeze. Maybe it was Daniel Craig as James Bond that I fell for. Maybe it is the fact that I’ve shaken the Boy out of my psyche once and for all and Daniel and the Boy share a certain emotional flakiness I don’t want in my life any more. Whatever the reason, I just don’t want to imagine myself in some upmarket Dorset cottage for a snow speckled lovefest. Sad though this is, it is over.
In the early days I kept them away from my mother’s prying eyes, safely locked away in a suitcase under my bed. Richard Burton, Robert Mitchum and David Attenborough. A mixture of the rugged, the ragged and the thoughtful; a recipe for satisfaction, even when mayhem ensued in the outside world. They were all men in that old-fashioned, thrashing- through- the- jungle way. In my imaginary world I was always Jane to their Tarzan, which surprises me because I’ve always had more than a little Tarzan in my own make up.
Real relationships came and went, form always following function according to the ubiquitous law. A fine balance was maintained by a revolving stage of ‘crushes’. and so the years went by. But I’ve noticed of late that it was only Daniel Craig that hit the spot. Physical, in charge, compact, with deep crinkling eyes, he was both wild/dangerous and gentle/homey. He looks like he would be fun to be holed up with for a week, as the snowdrifts pile up outside the windows of a cosy cottage. The problem is that this makes him something of a tomcat and trouble to any woman who gives him her heart, even in an imaginary sense.
What you’ve got to realise about me is that I am INTENSE. This means that my imaginary world is every bit as real as your real word; a fact that has its downside as well as its up. So when I say that my feelings towards Daniel have changed, it is no small event in my life. Sad old woman you might say behind my back but give me a break, I’m being open and honest here and in me it’s real. After several years of companionship, during which time I had no problems sharing him with Satsuki(I was always too tall for him in real time, anyway. We’d have had a problem with colliding kneecaps) the feeling has departed, just like that. Suddenly he’s started looking ‘off’, like he’s got a permanent hangover. And the holes punched in his aura are threatening to join up, turning him into an etheric void. To me he now looks like a man who has seen everything and found it lacking. He looks like he has lost the curiosity, the hunger for life; has reached the top of the hill and finds the view on the other side deeply disappointing. Consequently he is no longer the man for me in my home-made world.
I have a strange feeling that I have stepped over an invisible line. Life is divided into two parts. The first where you learn things and the second where you live what you have learned. I have stepped into the second. In this place only things of substance have a place. Tom cats are not welcome. Daniel Craig might drive a 43K Range Rover and be great on the ice, but that’s no help to me where I’m going.
All my life I’ve searched for a man who could read me like a map, only to find when I’m well into the relationship, that I am being used as a compass. In some mysterious way my imaginary friends have been doing the same. It’s time to let go of the concept. I am myself great on the ice. I manage my own imaginary 4 wheel drive. From this morning on, I am happy to report, I can let go of Daniel and all other imaginary lovers. It feels like a release of sorts.
Time to change the CD . The Sonatas haven’t got that particular quality that is locked in the Last Songs.