RIP + David Farrant 1946 - 2019 +

The Human Touch Blog ~
David Farrant

Difficult To Share

Just a quick Blog: well: it is 3.11 am as I start to write this.

Life is so strange, sometimes.  Going through some stuff tonight, looking as usual, and I pulled a drawer too quickly, and the contents just scattered at my feet..  Putting them back, I saw this hand-written letter, and it made me wonder – or think.  I thought, why is it that I have never really been able to love anybody except ‘A’. (That was just a question to myself – I don’t expect anyone to answer).

The letter read:

“David, You’ve been successful at last – after struggling for a year.  You are free now, I feel forced to leave you.  You need no longer have to be bothered about my feelings or ‘trying’ to feel yourself.

You were right last weekend, it won’t work.  I will contact my parents and get them to cancel any wedding arrangements that already have been made.

You may think that this is a horrible way to say goodbye – just leaving – and I agree, but I cannot stand the pain and hurt if we went through another time like last weekend.

I don’t want to leave you but you are impossible to get to and I would get destroyed in the end.

Our marriage is not possible (do you see the ridiculous hope I still have) now.  Is any relationship at all possible?  That remains to be seen.

PS  Wouldn’t it have been better not to have given me hope than letting me love you only to make it impossible?  I still love you”.

Life can be so strange sometimes.  In fact, I only published this at all because it fell out of some long-lost drawer.  But I guess it makes some point: I have never been able to respond to some relationships properly.  I have never hated anybody, but sometimes just can’t love them at the same time – if that makes sense.

I think it all goes back to that bleak winter if 1965:  She died, and took my love with her.  Its still here: but sometimes very difficult to share with anybody else.  Hence ‘N’s’  letter..

Well, I suppose I’d better try to embrace some sleep now.  Busy day tomorrow!



One Response

  1. Hi David–I was inspired also to look through some of the stuff I had left–miraculously–from the 1960’s. My nurse friend and I used to go hitch hiking to a mad place called Ingleton where all the climber,pot holers and up and coming folk singers went–we met some great people.Dylan was all the rage ! We drank pints of Teteleys bitter–an absolute scandal in those days, wore jeans—another scandal and I had long hair, an even greater scandal. We didn’t have any dickipoggy of the real kind, but just had a wild time without it–much more fun! Drugs were flying around, but mostly amphetamines, nothing really bad, though mixed with Tetleys bitter and Austrialian wine from Yates in Bradford, could be a bit drastic!
    Here’s one of our masterpieces!
    Now Liverpudlian Biologist
    His hair was long and kisses strong
    A lonesome lad from the Red Rose
    For Audrey’s love he did long
    Schitzy Poet was a great bard
    His rosy complexion was not marred
    By lust,corruption,beer and sin
    Our platonic love he sure did win
    Virile was a boaster great
    All our illusions he did break
    Of what he had not done was naught
    But virtuous Audrey did him thwart
    Now John Bedlam Patella broke our patellas
    Of this he never ceased to tell us
    He rambled on from twelve to three
    My toes,my arm and oh my knee !
    Another verse we give to him
    As in trouble and squalor he landed us in
    With tablets here and tablets there
    But the fine he’ll pay he’ll turn to prayer
    Scabies was a youth so foul
    He girlfriend loved him despite his scowl
    Although with scabies he did crawl
    She said I love him,that is all !
    Now silly old Cockeran loved his swine
    The changing of Audrey he thought a great crime
    A nice young lady she used to be
    And loved my pigs as much as me!

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1946 - 2019




From the vaults ...

A flashback to one of David’s comedic, profound or quizzical blog entries. Dive into the archives to find more gems. 

The Ghost Of Hill Hall

HAUNTED HILL HALL Hill Hall stands rather majestically amidst overgrown grounds near the small village of Theydon Mount in Essex. An Elizabethan Manor House that