James Kelman - If it is your life

But really I think it was girlish. I could see my sister doing that, and giggling. I thought of Celia as a woman but she was weeks younger than me. Really she was a girl. Was I good-looking? Maybe I was. Once my aunt called me a handsome boy. That was great. My mum scolded her for it. We do not want him swell-headed. But that would not have made me swell-headed, your auntie. I used to think I might be handsome, but then saw that I was not, not in comparison to other guys. They had better looks, or more popular ones. People would call them handsome without much thought whereas not me, if they called me anything, it would not be that but just you hoped they would look twice.

And I worried about stuff. Not that but other things, and if I was gay, sometimes I thought that. I did not like being at the same urinal and if guys washed their hands beside me I was just self-conscious all the time and did not know what they were doing and then if I blushed, just blushing all the time. It was just a nightmare. Celia called me a worrier. She was dead right. I worried all the time about stuff. A lot of it was nonsensical, absolute stupidity, just diabolical nonsense. Why did I worry about stupid crap! But I did, and looking for signs about everything. If you say that it means you are that. If you think that then it is a sign about really you are this. I was glad doing philosophy. I felt it was like ‘oh calm down, calm down’: that was philosophy. Rob Anderson saying about Socrates. Now, would you say that this was the case? Yes. And you would say further that this is the case? Yes. And would you also say that this too is the case? Yes. Then you are fine absolutely and must not worry, cannot worry, not about that, not about any of it.

I used to think I was happy-go-lucky but I was not at all happy-go-lucky.

But I had not thought I was a worrier until Celia said it. I was. Obviously. It was not a good thing to be. Worriers were geeky kind of guys. I never thought I was geeky. Maybe I was.

But she would never have gone out with me.

It was all just stupid. So what, if I was a geek.

Why trust her judgement? She was not always right. In relation to me I used to think she was but I was wrong. The trouble with me was I put her on a pedestal and you should never do that with any human being. My dad said that. He had been let down too many times, especially with union officials and people, politicians. It was something to watch for. They start off good guys then become right-wing bastards, selling out to the bosses, cowardly shits and money-grubbers, just careerists. It was like academics, how Rob spoke about them.

But it was not her judgement. She did not know every thing. I knew she did not. The idea was ridiculous. It was me, my fault. I thought that stuff. Nonsensical nonsense. Because I lacked experience. I was a naive idiot. That is the truth. It was just Celia, she had her own ideas, she went her own way. She did. That was a thing about her, it was a strong thing, she just made you smile, that was her. She was just I do not know except you were smiling, she made me smile because too of what she did, even thinking she knew everything. I was very very glad, very very glad, smiling to myself not even thinking about it, so I could smile, I could smile and I did, alone and in my own head, and it was an answer to her, so I was smiling and it was good I was smiling. I did not care, even about the future, if I got beyond it, I would, because it was the future, and how could you get beyond the future, it was impossible; the future becomes the present and the present is the past, the tortoise and the hare. I was the tortoise. I did not care, the tortoise is never beat and that was how I felt.

And the woman beside me, she was sleeping. That was trust. She trusted me.

I did not sleep. If only I could! I sat awake for hours. Unless sex, if it was after sex, I was always asleep until then I awoke, but I was ready, that was how I woke up, and if she turned into me it was just like hard again, it just made you shiver.

Out the window I recognized the skyline. So that was us, Glasgow in ten minutes.

The rain was not so bad now. It might even have gone off by the time we arrived in the bus station. It had to. I was not sure how to get home except by walking. I did not have enough for a taxi. Buses went from somewhere through the night but you waited for ages and you got trouble, especially on your own. Really, you were quite vulnerable. I felt that. I had not been home for a while. Probably it was just silly. Walking was okay if you went the main route. I thought that. Maybe I could have called my parents but that was a hopeless thing to do. My dad would have picked me up but I did not want him to. Anyway, I wanted to surprise them. They knew I was coming but not the actual day. I was going to do something like ring the bell and hide behind the wall. Boo!

But I was looking forward to seeing them. They would be the same. I appreciated my parents because of this. Things change. They did not. Other things in the world, relationships. I was coming home but where had I come from? It was strange. I felt very very strange. Not like at Christmas it was just a wee break, hurry home and hurry back. Not this time. Who was I coming to see anyway. Nobody. Parents and sister. Eric was a pal but at the same time, maybe I would not see him. There were other pals. Maybe I would see them. Maybe not. And who had I left behind. Nobody. It did not matter. It was my fault anyway. She did want to see me. She said she did. She said that to me. Although I did not believe her. Why should I? I was only one, one male. She had others. She had others. How could she have others? She did. But how could she have sex with other men if it was supposed to be me, if I was supposed to be her — not boyfriend, boyfriend was silly, if I had said the word to her, she would have thought it ridiculous and so very naive, and it would have been.

Maybe she was not having sex with them, any of them. Imagine I asked her. I could not.

I knew I was not special. I did not care. People said life was too short: did they even know what it was? It was like some of them never lived.

The bus was late into the station. I sat on while the other passengers got off. There was a queue for luggage. When I stepped down I saw my backpack, the driver had dumped it out and it was on a wet spot. Thanks very much. I lifted it and got it on and started walking, stepping my feet down hard because of tiredness and a kind of cramp.

Rain. Surely not. Yes. Although sometimes close in to a building you got drops falling. That was Glasgow, just walking along the street and you felt spots. It was like somebody was doing it on purpose, maybe out a window they saw you passing and sprinkled water down on your head. You could not believe they would do it, not to a stranger. Surely people would not throw water at strangers! Yes, they like a laugh. Even good people. Although how could they be good if they did bad things. Because they are people; people are people.

A strange thing about Celia was how she had a special name for herself to do with destiny and the stars. She got it from someplace and changed herself to it. She did not tell me what it was but it was how she saw herself. Something special lay ahead of her. It was there and she could reach out. She believed that. And for me too. I did not believe it. Well I did, but not for all people. She thought it was all people but how could it be, it was just stupid saying that. Maybe for her, not for everybody. Not me either, although maybe it could be. But not others, not ones I knew, like my parents and my sister. My family was not special except if something I did because it was me. If you asked them probably they would have said it was me, I was going to do something. But I did not think so. Only because I was at university but everybody was if they were middle class so did that mean they were all special? It was stupid thinking that. I was not special either, not extra special. I was not. I was just me, it was my life, and my life was ordinary, just nothing special at all. I knew that. Because I watched other ones and saw them. Maybe I would be a writer. I would like to be a writer because you could just be free and do what you wanted.