The Gypsy (Pt 6) Lucky Star

I asked him, would you please tell him that I am sorry, and I said again – we were so young, and I feel that IΒ didn’tΒ handle things well at all, wish him well, please? I chose to do this because the gypsy had rejected my apologies as he headed to London, but here I was, still offering peace. Harry said of course he would tell him, but left me with a parting line. β€œYou make quite an interesting addition to the story of his life and they are turning it into a film!” I smiled as he walked away but I was quite afraid and disturbed by his tone, menace and horrid eyes – the gypsy had refused to shake my hand all those years ago, and told me he was going to make it and I still desired closure, but I hadn’t been that bad – had I? I turned to my friend, who had that typical ‘yeah right’ gay blase look on his face… and I said, β€œDon’t for oneΒ minuteΒ think that he is joking, youΒ don’tΒ knowΒ the Gypsy!”

The Gypsy (Pt 5) Moving On

I did not deal with this, with any level of maturity, or emotional intelligence at all. I was very much in love with this person, this gypsy. To be told by him that the plans I had created for us, that the move that I had orchestrated for us, he was taking alone, was cruelty beyond imagination. That I was to pack up and leave the home that I had kept so well (Well? Apart from burning it down once). It was such a crushing blow that Alexis had to step in.

The Gypsy (Pt 4) ‘His Story’

As I have written, he had waited until he was 18 to run away from his community, hisΒ family, and his entire culture. He had planned it for years, knowing that so little was known about the Romany Gypsy people, that he could escape with an interesting story – and he could now say and do, anything he fancied. He knew the ways or the Gorgias (Non Gypsy people) and he had a genius story to sell to them – my media studies helped him see this was possible.

The Gypsy (Pt 3) Ivy Grows

Back in Blackpool, the tables had really started to turn. I don’t for one moment blame him for my decision to leave further education but I did fall even further into the palm of his hands in doing so. He encouraged me to do it with an air of expectancy. I had even arranged with the management to pass on to the gypsy, my part-time job at Edwards bar. He despised the stinky diner and its polyester uniform that reeked of chip fat and he dropped his Super Bowl friends, like hot potatoes for this funkier Edwards set.

The Gypsy (Pt 2) Cabin Fever

The shock of it all was an out of body experience. I simply could not get my head around it, and my mind revolted its possibility until I arrived to witness it for myself. There were two fire engines, a sea of spectators, police and my poor sister in her dressing gown, being held up by two elderly ladies as thick black smoke flooded out of our basement windows. There was noΒ breezeΒ and it hung in the air around us. It was a horrifying, creeping fear and doom.

The Gypsy (Pt 1) Introduction

They say that our first love will always be with us. Time heals of course, but it lingers there as a reminder of the first time that we felt the force of real, grown-up emotions. A canvas that we projected all of our hopes and desires onto – mine however, would psychologically scar me, for life.