Scarey Days

For a short time this morning, I had one of the most horrible experiences of my life.

I received a phone call at 8am (always early for me!) from Tim (husband of Valerie, and groom in the Vegas wedding!), who I literally haven't spoken to since Vegas! He was calling to tell me about the massive earthquake in Christchurch, home of my bestie ATM, and that they hadn't been able to get a hold of her.

I tried to call myself, and then text asking for update, but fully expected that phones would be down so I didn't hold out much hope of hearing anything. I managed to keep it together to get X to her holiday club, but on the drive to work I just felt awful. It really was one of the worst hours of my life.

Eventually I was parked up, composed enough, and it was late enough (just in case she didn't know) to call her mum,. Thank goodness that she had heard from her that all was well, and that both ATM and hubby were safe and sound, although they have no power, no phones, etc, etc. The relief! I can't tell you!! I ended up in tears going into work, which I think was just the adrenaline release from the worry.

Much love to ATM and Mr ATM - which I really should say more often... though, I do have a hard ass reputation to uphold you know!

Update: Have received an email from them, and she sounds like the typical ATM that I know and love, so feeling much better! Although, lets hope there are no more bloody earthquakes - I really, really can't take the stress!!

Wistful

I absolutely love the programme One Born Every Minute, its so lovely to see women, couples, families going through the trauma but joy of giving birth and all that goes with it.

The downside though, is that it makes me wistful to be a part of those couples whose moments are so preciously shared. Its times like these that I think being in love again might not be so bad after all.

What it is to be me

My ability to over analyse and the depth to which my emotions are attached to this over analysis sometimes astounds even myself! Let’s take the last week or so as a case in point:

Monday – I send JB a thought out and non-threatening quick text to let him know I have collected theatre tickets (which I actually collected 4 days before) and so we are “good to go on Saturday”. He replied, we had a brief text chat, including him saying he was looking forward to it.

Result – one happy and confident OG.

Tues, Wed, Thurs day – Some constant rumbling through my brain of whether I want this, whether I’ll get this, whether I am too completely incompetent in relationships, whether he views this as friendship, yadeyadeyada.

Result – pootling along in the day to day.

Thurs 8pm – a text from him saying hi and asking how I was and hoping all is good.

Result – initially happy and smiley OG again, later mingled with the beginnings of doubt that this is what I want, that I am only interested in the chase and not the relationship, some mild anxiety that this may work and some that it won’t.

Thurs 11pm – text him back after getting in from work.

Result – feeling very grown up and in control at having waited to text him and thereby demonstrating that I am not some sad psycho stalker.

Thurs 11.15pm – log on to Facebook, to read comment from himself on his page earlier in the day, saying he’s had a great day including a “kiss from a princess”.

Result – immediate and horrible anxiety that he has met somebody and that I am clearly in friend category, followed by anxiety that if this is the case I now have to go to the theatre with him and pretend happy and nice, followed by annoyance at him and myself for thinking otherwise, mixed in with some sensible reasoning that he is probably talking about a friend’s daughter or some other such completely irrelevant happening.

Thurs 11.20pm – read comments on his page from a close male friend of his, referring to another OG named commenter, and saying “is that the OG you said about?” followed by JB’s response of “no mate, different OG”.

Result – am muchly happy that he has obviously been talking about me to his close male friend, which is just fabulous because that means I am important, and smile, smile, smile. before contented and settled sleep.

Friday 8am – woke to a text on my phone that he has updated his Facebook status.

Result – beginning onset of anxiety that he has not replied to my text sent last night.

Friday 8.30am – still no text response from last night.

Result – beginning to think that perhaps he is talking to his friend about me in a bad way. Anxiety that he has expressed concern about how I have been with him, that he has asked how he can extract himself from situation, that somebody else has been advising him about me, in a bad way.

Friday 9.30am – comment casually on his Facebook status, he replies equally casually and saying nothing of any significance good or bad.

Result – getting myself increasingly worked up about what to read and what to disregard, a recap and continual repeating cycle of all of the previously mentioned feelings from last night and this morning, including a frustration with myself for the constant over analysis and the inability to switch of my brain, a complete inability to focus on anything at work, combined with the need to constantly check phones and Facebook, as well as to spill this into Blogland.

The benefits of which, I guess, are a vaguely interesting, if slightly embarrassing post!

Maelstrom

Last night I went to bed full of fluff! Figuratively speaking of course.

I'd had a pretty good day, after a relaxing weekend, and it was topped off by a brief but pleasant text chat with JB confirming the 12th for our hot date. So I settled to bed calm, content, and full of pleasant thoughts of times to come and the delightfulness of new men.

This morning however, it was not new loves that crept unbidden into my dreams but old ones.

I woke in a whirl of emotions from an all too real dream that involved, in brief, the return of the man that was and a gradual reawakening of us after a weekend spent together which culminated in me losing him in a crowd.

It has taken me all day to shake a strange sense of impending trouble. I have spent the morning restless, anxious, and with a turbulence in my stomach that was not related to any digestive issues in any way.

It frustrates me that my subconscious can betray me in this way. That it can let my past creep into my present, albeit through my dreams only, and that I can be affected by something that is long since dead. It's ridiculous that something as small as a dream, which means nothing, absolutely nothing at all can send me into a spin for nearly an entire day. It's certainly a good job I don't believe in premonitions, because if I did I'd be predicting a showdown where I'm forced to choose between the old and the new.

I so want to choose the new and forget the old ever existed, but it unnerves me how much it shakes me. As I said, it's a good job I don't believe in the power of dreams, no matter how real they seem.

Lets hope for a more peaceful night tonight.

Treading water...

... is what I am in doing in general at the moment, and most likely what I will be doing for the next few years as well.

The energy required to raise two children singlehandedly, whilst working full time and intermittent studying and socialising for the last 14-15yrs has taken it's toll and I am currently in cruise mode. That is fine. I love my children. I love my job. I have achieved house and career movement in the last few years. In general, my life is just fine.

Fine can, of course, only last so long. I am an all or nothing kind of girl, and at the moment I opt for nothing, because if I chose everything I couldn't cope. I want a one true love again. I want to be consumed with a person again. I want the space in my life to give myself, fully.

I don't have that space right now. I don't have the energy right now. I don't have the circumstances right now. So, at the moment I am treading water, letting life just pass me by whilst my children grow, my bank account becomes less hazardous and I continue to heal emotionally from the trauma of DM. I am happy to tread water. For once, I am long term happy with calm.

For now at least.

Guilt

I am feeling very bad that my boy, who asks for practically nothing, has posted the following on his facebook account...

No bowling tomorrow :-(

Why? Because I don't have the £5 to pay for him to go.

Fear

I have just been so frightened I can't tell you! I'm still quite tearful about it and am not sure I can even relay this coherently - definitely not in any way to give it justice.

My car wouldnt start yesterday - sure its nothing more than too cold weather, the too short journeys and a too old battery, but either way it means that I had no car yesterday, and as I couldn't get a hold of my dad I had no working car today either. As a result, I am at home today - working away on my laptop, when a large white van pulls up outside and a man knocks on the door. My initial expectation is that it might be a parcel - having recently ordered some new M&S undies - but on opening the door it becomes apparent that it is a bailiff! Now, I know I have a catalogue debt which I have been paying off, but is outstanding, and is currently at about £150, so I'm expecting it to be him and I'm expecting to not let him in.

However, he says its for a parking fine from January 2009 and that he has come to take my car!!! Seriously, I remember getting a parking ticket in the council car park that I park in, which I have a permit for, which I was going to ring and get cancelled but never did - and as I hadn't heard anything I assumed it had gone away, or that someone had realised when issuing the permits that I could park there legally. I had literally heard nothing - until today, when a bailiff is telling me I need to pay £380 or have my car towed away.

I don't have £380 lying around my house, or even in a credit or debit account, and although he was very pleasant, he wouldnt let me sort it and then pay later - it was now or the car. I tell you, I have rarely been so upset in my life. I can't imagine not having a car - I can't imagine how I would cope with work, life, everything - and even though I should probably not have ignored the ticket, its hard to imagine a year later, after hearing nothing, you can just have your car towed away!!! He said they don't usually knock, they just hook it up and tow it.

In the end I had to ring my mum, to see if she would pay it, in floods of tears, which I don't think my mum has ever heard from me (well, not since I was a child!!) because I couldn't think what to do and I was just so scared! Apparently they had written to my previous address, but as I only recently changed my address with the DVLA nothing had come here. He initially said that I had had a letter here 2 weeks ago, but I know I didn't, and later when he checked again the letter was only posted 2nd class yesterday to my current address, so as he knew I hadnt had first letter he let me pay the £123 instead of towing my car.

So he has gone, the bailiff stuff has finished - I am going to ring the council and see if I can reclaim on the basis I have a permit for that car park in the first place, though I doubt I will get anywhere. In fact, it is probably better to write, as I'm sure thats what they will tell me to do anyway.

It might sound like nothing, just a bit of money and all sorted now - but it has really shaken me up - just feeling so powerless and frustrated, and I hate having to be in a position to rely on other people, especially when it comes to money. I really, really need to get myself more financially stable this year - I hate that I'm not, and I know I don't help the situation. I just hope the year gets better than its been so far!

Blue

Don't know what's up with me today, but am just feeling really down. In fact, am having a little cry :-(

The day started well - got up to lots of lovely snow, one school open, one school closed. So off X toddled and Y came to work with me, as I had a strategic meeting that I chair that I couldn't really cancel. Took me an hour to drive the usual 20 minute journey to work, purely as a result of crap driving I'm sure, as there were no break downs or crashes on the 10 mile route! But I was still feeling pretty chipper, and me and Y were having a little chin wag and trying to overtake cars and so on.

So eventually get to work, and meeting starts at 10.30. I must just say that it is a meeting that I absolutely hate, bi monthly, completely pointless, consists of me talking and other people agreeing and then 2 hours later they leave and I do. But today, I was feeling positive, I had a new action agenda format - was clear what I wanted to discuss, was clear what outcomes I wanted, etc etc. And it just turned out to be same old same old - I get so disheartened by it. I just want to get on and do, and to get support from other professionals in a multi agency partnership! But no, same old same old. I nearly cried. Twice. In the meeting.

I think that, plus the combination of money stress, plus the fact my Masters assignment is late, plus the Christmas build up - and probably the time of the month, have resulted in sadness.

But, have jacked off the rest of the day, picked X up, done shopping, come home, sent X and Y out to play in the snow, and think my pyjamas, a long Lush bath, a glass of wine and a little cry is on my agenda for the next few hours. Would happily make it my agenda for the entire evening but my sister and brother in law are coming later and staying over for Christmas Bowling tomorrow morning so better get it out of the way first!

Tomorrow is another day! Good job really!!

Missing Inaction - pt2

The following week brought little respite from my mood. Not sadness, or anger, or even loss; just a sense of flatness over the hours. And for once, Blogland was not a place I wanted to be.

I don't know quite what had changed, or when, but I seemed to have developed into a prissy middle-aged critic all of a sudden. I've never been prudish, I've never been easily offended, I've always hedged towards the darker side of life, and of sexuality, but lately everywhere I look I see sadness, and infidelity, and deception and people settling for random sex when they want (and deserve) so much more. And I'm tired of it all. Tired of the pain and the wasting of too little time. Tired of the darker side of life.

I want to read of love. Of happy ever afters. Of people who reach and achieve. Of people who live a life based on positive emotions and positive choices. Of lives that don't parallel my continuing trudge just to stand still. Of lives I am increasingly afraid I will never achieve. So, I stepped back, and stepped away. Trying to get back to the place I used to be, to the person I used to be. I've even been bored of myself this week.

And as the week lifted my mood has done the same. Slowly but surely. Until yesterday I thought fuck it! Time to ignore, ignore, ignore. No more dwelling!! Life goes on. Blah de blah de blah. Just a few more days to get back on track.

Missing Inaction - pt 1

I have needed some time away from Blogland. Time away from myself would have been preferable, but harder to achieve.

The wedding was good, really good. The weather was beautiful, the service lovely, and I looked fabulous!

It was really great to catch up with Mick, and despite the fact that he ended the evening absolutely plastered and asleep on someone's sofa (after I'd left for home), we had a great time rushing around to get ready and there on time, holding his hand as he faced his life long crush for the first time in years (my ex-bf BB!), and chattering, teasing and squabbling like an old married couple.

But despite it being so lovely, and me having a really good time, I just ended the night feeling... I don't know, bereft I suppose.

I left the after party at Smiler's at about 1.30am, and was glad Mick was staying as I just needed some time on my own to clear my head. I think it is the nature of weddings in general. All that emotion. This one was particularly nostalgic, lots of old faces connected to a really good period in my life, not to mention seeing BB for the first time in probably 5 years. It affected me more than I thought it would. I've missed him. Not as a boyfriend, not in any kind of physical way, but in the plain and simple way you miss people who were a good part of your life, and you forget that in the main until you see them again, and have to say goodbye to them again.

And more than missing BB, I missed DM. I always miss him. Every day. But I'm used to that now. It's been a long time since I've had that pure physical ache inside me for him. To have him here, to have him hold me, to hold him back. And it kind of crept up on me throughout the day, and the evening, and through the night until the physical desire to connect with him was so strong that I had to get out of there and just drive. Drive and smoke. Drive and smoke. Until I was too exhausted to do anything but collapse into bed and sleep.

Sunday was better. Mick finally roused himself from his sofa sleep and after collecting X we had a lovely lunch at a local pub/restaurant and hashed over the general wedding events before he headed back home.

But Sunday evening found me lonely, lost, disillusioned, looking for answers that never come, and with the wedding reading rolling round my head.

If I speak in the tongues of mortals and of angels, but do not have love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal.

And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing.

If I give away all my possessions, and if I hand over my body so that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing.

Love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude.

It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth.

It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

Love never ends.

1 Corinthians 13

Confusion

Y told me earlier that his dad and new partner are expecting a baby. A new half brother or sister for him.

I never wanted this, and thought it was probably unlikely to happen. I wish it hadn't. I don't want Y to have more family that isn't a part of mine.

Disconnected

Not really sure where this post is going, but I seem to have an awful lot of stuff just going round and round in my head, so time to spill it I think.

I'm currently child-free, with Y off to the seaside for the day with his dad and X off to see Shrek with friends, and with time on my hands I'm just restless. I'm supposed to be attending a friends party this afternoon/evening, and I just can't be bothered with people. Though I know I'm better with people, and that company distracts me, I just don't feel part of anything.

I have already spent a couple of hours driving there and back for no reason, in an attempt to clear my head but it doesn't seem to help. I can't seem to connect properly at the moment, it's almost like I live my life looking in from the outside. I don't belong. I don't fit. I don't have. They're the constants that go round and round. I feel numb almost, numb and empty, as if I'm not truly a part of anything. Not sad, not at all, just detached. Dislocated.

I'm really struggling not to get in touch with DM at the moment. I know I shouldn't, I know there's no point, but the last couple of days I've found it increasingly difficult. There are too many things that remind me - adverts for outdoor theatre, references to San Francisco, increased conversations with DB, and damn motorbikes. Every where I go, everywhere I look there seem to be bikes!

DB is my DM substitute I think. The similarities between them are amazing, although their circumstances now are completely different. And I know it's a bad thing to be going down that road, that the whole thing can only end in tears. That thinking "fuck this love thing, I'll take what I want, when I want it from somebody who reminds me" is not a sensible or rational way to go. That it won't fix the problems or fill the space. But then why the fuck shouldn't I?? Where did laying my heart on the line fucking get me?? Here! That's where! And I don't like it here right now!!

DB and I are in almost daily contact, and have been for months, and though a lot of our conversations are just general chit chat, he has headed cautiously down that infidelity route, although I think more talk than action, and we've skirted around the meeting thing for a long while, because I think it will only go one way. And to be honest, I haven't been interested. Why would I be? I have my one true love, I've been waiting for that. So for a long time I've been telling him I don't do being the 'other woman', that it's not going to happen. But now...? Now, who knows.

He's not a happy man, not by a long shot, and I'm tempted to go there. To push him to go there. He's never been unfaithful, which (in a way I'm not proud of) makes it better. I want to force it. Take him somewhere he hasn't been. To take back some control.

And maybe to slam another nail in the coffin that men (and women) just can't be trusted to be faithful! If I'm completely honest, I think that's also what I do. Every time I get a previously faithful man to be unfaithful I lose a little bit of faith in fidelity. And blogland certainly doesn't help that. It's sick that I hate infidelity so much, that I think it's cowardly, and pathetic, and sad, and yet I'm considering fucking a married man.

Oh, I just don't fucking know! Perhaps the previous distractions just aren't working any more. Perhaps I'm hoping this might fill a little part of this fucking space.

Glum

Can't seem to shift this glum mood at the moment. I don't feel sad really, just flat. And a bit low. That's not to say that I'm miserable, because whilst I'm busy I'm quite laughy and jokey. It's just when I stop I can't seem to motivate myself really. Everything just seems dull, and I can't really put my finger on why.

I think money is a lot of it. I've been struggling to catch up since Vegas, especially with X and Y's birthdays within 7 weeks of each other, not to mention a bastard £200 bank charges (again!) in the last two months, and only £50 total maintenance from X's dad since April. Thought I had pretty much caught up, apart from 2 months of catalogue charges (about £240), and my after school bill (probably about £180), and then found out today I actually owe after school club (£360!). And I just don't know where I'm going to get that money unless Y goes without his Nintendo Wii, which I can't really do as I've promised him it now. It's just so disheartening to be scrabbling all the time. I just can't seem to get myself straight to stay that way.

I just feel worn out at the moment. And tonight my upper right arm is really achy, like I pulled a muscle, which is not awfully painful, just annoying. Can't even be bothered to go out for a few beers. Just seems a bit pointless at the moment.

On a more positive note, I got a fabulous cut and blow dry (think Posh Spice) today for just £10. It really needed doing but I couldn't afford it so was planning on waiting until next month, then a work mate gave me this voucher so decided to make the most of it, and am very pleased with it. Will at least feel a little professional next week.

Fucker!

About 8,30pm last night I had a text from DM:

I'm going to be staying in Paris an extra night so don't make any plans for me for Saturday night. Will call and explain as soon as I can.

UNFUCKINGBELIEVEABLE!! But rather than jump the gun and imagine it's because he actually can't be arsed to even make the effort to see me at all, and that it's not something that's happened, I replied:

Is everything ok? So I wont get to see you at all then?

No, will call soon.

Great!

Lily and Meg were due to arrive shortly to watch the start of BB, and despite some head shaking, I was relatively calm about it. I had been toying (very gently) with the idea of cancelling anyway, on the basis of "what's the point?". Anytime I have seen him/spoken with him/contacted him before it is pretty much always on the basis that I believe we have a chance at a future. My calmness was also helped by the fact that he was happy to be back in the country for a week before planning to see me, which had kind of made me realise that 'a future' wasn't going to happen. But despite considering cancelling, its the same old story of 'what if', so I'd decided to meet him on Saturday night as planned.

So BB was good, a pleasant distraction, and I really didn't dwell on the whole text/DM situation too much for the entire evening.

However...!

This morning I have woken from an entire night of dreams of screaming and crying. And I am filled with fucking rage. Shouting at the kids, shouting at the telly, shouting at the cat. Pure frustration I think. Rage and tears. Less rage now, more tears.

I spent all night dreaming that I was in America, that it was my last day, and that because I hadnt replied to his text he was ignoring me and in fact making plans to see someone else. I don't remember any more specifics other than an awful lot of me shouting at him, and him just not listening. Which I think just about sums it up. I feel like he never fucking hears me!! And that if I could just do this, or just do that, or whatever. And now I'm left with this image of him with someone new, someone better.

So I woke in this mood, feeling like I've spent the night shouting and screaming and crying, and then I got mad, thinking "I mean so fucking little he can't even manage to see me for one evening". All this time, all this energy and he cant spare one fucking evening!! I really do mean nothing to him. He really doesn't give a fucking shit.

And then, stupidly!!! I thought, 'perhaps he's in Paris longer for a job interview, perhaps he's making plans to come back to me permanently and keeping it a surprise." And for a split second it seemed possible. Until I realise how fucking pathetic it is to even have that thought. And it pisses me off that I could even consider that, even for a split second, when it's blatantly obvious that all these months when I've believed in him, and believed that if I could just make him see that I'm serious, that I'm committed, then he'll let those barriers down and let me in, when the reality is just that he doesn't give a shit. He just doesn't want it. He just doesn't want me.

And when is that going to stop hurting this bad?!!

Daytrip

This Blogland we all inhabit so frequently is a funny old place, filled with laughter, fears, feelings, and some tears. I trip around from pillar to post and enjoy my time here in a fairly light-hearted way mostly, but with the occasional sorrow for some of my fellow inhabitants.

Today though, has been a memorable day in Blogland for me. Today I read, not one, but three, posts that have evoked something deeper in me.

The first is a post of pure truth. By a writer who takes concepts and words and turns them into realisations of such validity that I wonder how I did not see that before, and how I will ever it see it another way again.

The second, quite possibly one of the most beautiful things I have ever read by someone who's writing never ceases to amaze me. A post, and a blog, by a writer who takes the beauty of the written language and crafts both the language, and the content, in such a way as to leave me in awe.

And finally, conversely, was all about the content, a tiny part of the content, but a part that sparked a greater anger in me than I have ever felt on reading a post, despite the fact that I have such empathy for the writer. I was surprised by how much a simple phrase, a simple act by another human being (not the author) could rile me to livid so quickly.

Today, Blogland has been worth the trip. Though I leave feeling humbled.

A simple phone call

Having heard from Lena about Jay, I was quite grumpy this evening, about life and love in general. Disappointed with him, cross with myself for being bothered about him, and most bizarrely really, really angry with DM for leaving me to face all this shit. So I texted him, in temper:

Why couldn't you have just fucking tried!

Tried! Tried what OG? To make you happy? There are things that I can do and there are things that I can't. I'm not willing to dwell on the things I can't do.

Yes tried to make me happy. Like I tried to make you happy. That's what people do when they love each other!

I fully expected (in fact, almost dared) him to reply with "I don't love you!", or to ignore it completely.

A while later...

That's just it, I wasn't happy. I'm not happy. Not you, not anyone else can make me completely happy. I'm doing the best I can.

That's bollocks. And you know it is.

Really! Do you really think that! Where are you? I just tried calling you at home. I'm bored with texting.

Sure enough there's a voicemail on my phone (which was upstairs) saying he'd called and he would try again another time. So I call him, no answer. Then he rings me back.

Some idle chit chat commenced (I can't even remember the detail too much), and we chatted for about 20minutes before he called an end to it. I know I mentioned some things he's probably not completely comfortable with, that's just my way, and I know he gave me very little in terms of thoughts, feelings and emotions, but the most significant thing was that despite being so angry when I texted, the phone call was calm, and good, and just so familiar. It was just so fucking good to talk to him!! Like I just saw him last week, like the whole last year or so had never happened. And usually that would both sadden and frustrate me, but, for now, I feel calm and happy that we still connect.

I told him at the end of the conversation that I miss him, and that I love him, which I do - and if anything the ease of that call, (the first time we have spoken in 8 months), confirmed that. It confirmed that though I may have been doubting recently whether a future with him would ever now be possible considering the past, if he stepped back into mine now, I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that we could pick it up and make it work again. Possibly even more easily than I've ever given it credit in fact.

Of course I'm under no illusion that that is likely to happen any time soon, or anytime ever (especially considering the living circumstances), but I'm glad I spoke to him. I hope he is glad he spoke to me too.

I've given up fighting, and trying, and crying and thinking, but I still love him. And although life will undoubtedly go on, I still genuinely, genuinely believe there is no better fit for me AND him than each other. I hope one day he can believe it too.

However much you moan about me prodding you, considering how we've been for a long time, it's scary how easily we just had a conversation, and how good it was to talk to you. For me anyway! I hope for you too. It reminds me we were never about pain and misery, and that we were happy, whether you admit that or not. Even if you never realise it, I still believe your place is with me and always will be. It would be a shame to waste my trip over there.

The bottom line is, rightly or wrongly, that despite being pretty happy in life right now, all the time we don't spend together just seems such a waste.

The feelings

So there you have it! I can’t say I’m surprised, although at the same time I wasn’t expecting it either, but then I’ve learnt not to have too many expectations these days!

I still don’t know why he would bother getting in touch again, (especially after my last response to him getting in touch ended with me telling him to make a decision, let me know and then stick to it, as we are never going to be just friends), but at the end of the day I can’t dwell on that anymore. Time to face the inevitable and accept that he isn’t coming back and that I can’t wait for him any longer.

I’m okay though, it’s been such a long time and I’m so goddamn tired of the waiting and hoping, however deep I bury it. So, disappointed… yes, disillusioned… yes, destroyed… no.

The best I can do is to say I just feel flat. But beige, not grey. There’s been too much grey in the last year.

Time to move on now, once and for all.

Cocooned

Last night as I settled into bed, I had one of those small but significant moments of self-realisation that occasionally occur, and that simultaneously intrigue and confuse me.

It was most likely a result of the fact that I was freshly bathed, shaved, and moisturised, and I was getting into bedclothes that were clean, so were particularly fresh, crisp and soft; factors all combining to make me lay for a while just appreciating the physical sensations of skin against cotton, and the enjoyment of settling down into a warm bed on a cold winters night.

As I settled into that pre-sleep foetal position I always have, I suddenly realised that I was doing an unconscious, but extremely familiar added detail of taking one hand over the opposing shoulder and tucking the duvet right into the back of my neck and right round my shoulder. It may not seem significant, but I’m sure I never used to do this, and then further insight dawned and I also realised that in the few months this physical cocooning is something that I have transferred metaphorically in my emotional life. It’s like I’ve crocheted an emotional security blanket from the past, and as I settle into bed every night I cocoon myself in it in the exact same way I wrap my real duvet around me.

I’ve accepted and acknowledged in the past that I haven’t wanted to get rid of all the pain I was feeling, and that in a way I’ve almost clutched it to me and carted it around as a barricade. And while I’m not in that relentless pain anymore, I’ve exchanged that barrier for a different one; a softer, more protective blockade against the rest of the world.

No doubt therapists everywhere will be telling me I need to get rid of all this emotional dead weight, but I frankly I don’t want to. It’s safer this way.

Get it together woman!

Don't know what's the matter with me at the moment! My emotions are playing havoc with me and I think somebody (God, fate, Devil, whatever!!) is taking the piss!!

I can't quite shake the dream thing. I thought blogging it all would kind of shift it from my headspace but it doesn't appear to have done the trick. I was emotional while typing it yesterday, but obviously was at work so managed to hold it together!

Spent the rest of yesterday feeling pretty normal; busy at work and then doing outreach last night, and no stupid dreams during the night hours. Woke up this morning as usual, feeling fine (well as fine as I can be getting up in the morning!), got up, shouted at children, packed lunches, did the school run, stoppped and filled up with petrol, and then headed for work....

First song on the radio - 'Together in Electric Dreams'. What the fuck!!!!! You have got to be joking!! It just set me right off. And as if that wasn't bad enough, closely followed by... 'Against All Odds'. No fucking way!!!!! Well, that's it for me really. Tears, tears and more tears. And it's not even 9.30am!! Fortunately, the radio decided to stop tormenting me and followed up with "Gimme All Your Loving", and by the end of it I had managed to stop the twattiness of me and had pulled myself together! (I am heading for work after all!!!). But, naive that I am to think that it was over, the final song in this little section was 'Smooth Operator'; Sade, his favourite artist. Seriously, somebody is having a laugh at my expense!

Thank fuck I've arrived at work!

Only when I sleep

I dreamt about him last night. A beautiful, bittersweet dream that has left me feeling… well I don’t know how I’m feeling, and I don’t know why, so I'm getting it all down on here to let go of it and then get on with it.

I’m really having a good time at the moment: work is good, although in the wonders of NHS restructuring my job seems to have been forgotten! But although I’m stressed about that I’m equally quite confident that it can be rectified. X and Y are X and Y, but fine and not playing up too much. My social life is fairly quiet but that’s through choice, and I’m happy with that choice. Money is always an issue, but I’m in a better place financially than I have been for a long time. Emotionally, I’m moving on, putting things behind me, hardly even thinking of him at all, successfully beginning to erase all memories. I resolved that this year there would be no more of this. My subconscious seems to have missed that message…

It’s a dream I’ve had before, more than once. There are some slight variations, but its always the same location and always me, always him. I’m staying in a beautiful apartment that is located right in a department store. Literally, the lobby area leads directly into what could be John Lewis’s. The store sometimes changes, sometimes there are food halls, sometimes it is only fixtures and fittings, sometimes there is even a bar area. Sometimes there are people in it, sometimes it is empty, but it is always an apartment, and it is always in a large shop.

Last night, the kids were with me, and we were borrowing the apartment for some reason. A large opulent place with lots of rooms and gadgets, and long, long curtains separating half of the living area from the other. The kids wouldn’t settle, and were taking there time getting in bed and out again, although it was late, but finally quieted down. I struggled to pull the curtains to give myself some privacy in the front room, and then he arrived. I know I wasn’t expecting him. I know that even in the dream I knew we were apart, but I wasn’t surprised. So we talked a bit; what we had each been doing, some teetering around the subject of us, but never any discussion as to why he was here, just an acceptance that he was.

He asked to see the kids, despite knowing they were awake, and the impact that would have after the work I have done to remove him from their heads. It was important to him, really important, and I know I judged it as a sign that he was back. I can’t fully remember more details. Dreams retain a clarity that is all too fleeting before they slip into jagged memories and are usually lost forever. That’s why I need to record it now, while most of it remains. I know they were happy to see him, although X was quiet, very quiet, which is unheard of for her, and Y, the quiet one was chatty.

Then, with the wonder of dreams, it was just he and I, roaming around the store outside this flat. Messing with things, bouncing on beds, squirting shaving foam and generally acting like a couple of kids. And laughing, lots and lots of laughing. Suddenly back in the apartment, and kissing like we used to, fitting just like we used to, loving each other and then lying together and feeling happiness and contentment. And the dream was right. It felt perfectly right and perfectly wonderful.

But I guess real life intervenes, even in the best of subconscious thoughts, and slowly it began to dawn. I began to sense that he wasn’t back. That I wasn’t the future, just a stop-gap in whatever he was currently doing. There was almost a joviality about him, a checking of his phone, a disrespectful air, and an unspoken knowledge dawned that he had somebody else, at least one. And although he didn’t physically change, he slowly began to meld into somebody else, who looked just like him but who had never truly cared who I was, who had come back into my life, and back into the children’s and was almost certainly going to leave again.

And as usually happens whenever I have bad dreams, whenever I don’t want to face whatever it is, my brain woke me.

So, at 1am, I wake disorientated and confused; a mixture of happy, warm and glowing from remembering and feeling again, but sad, so sad that it didn’t stop there, and despite the painful ending, just for a little while, it makes me miss him once more.