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Friday, 6 March 2015

Foolish that I am.

I had a really full day. Not a minute to spare and not enough time to meet and talk or listen. I am sitting now for a brief moment before I make the final drive to collect my girls from God School (as I call it- it's called something far cooler than I'm giving it credit for and most importantly, my girls adore it) so I have dropped my shoulders, packed their bags for the fortnightly night away and I have fed the animals. I don't really know what I'm doing or why I'm doing it. I want it all to be so different, to go back to how it was before we had a fight but how can it? If I could, I would get into the bath and go under the hot bubbles and then I'd get out and climb into bed with soft, silky skin and hide under my delicious duvet for the whole weekend. Like many can and like many might. But I can't.

Tomorrow my girls will sing with the school choir and perform in front of 300 others and I, smiling, will watch them wondering how they have the courage to stand on stage at such a young age. I will be filled with pride and love so huge that the tears I choke back will only be evident to me. I will clench my jaw to stop myself shouting out support and I will not stand up or whistle. I have to tell myself that loving my children is normal and wanting them to do well is just like every other parent. Every other parent except mine. It is such a huge deal to me because I never experienced this. I could jump out of my seat and run up to the stage and squeeze my girls with a love so over-whelming yet I swallow and breathe at every public performance forcing myself to smile, nod and clap politely. It nearly kills me. I will then hand them over to their fathers who have absolutely no idea how amazing their girls are or have become forgetting every school performance even when reminded, never calling to offer support or attending a parents evening, school play or inter school sports event and then I will collapse. Under a duvet or bubbles but collapse all the same. I wonder if my girls know how much I love them? I think they have a pretty good idea. We are quite rare. We talk and we hold hands, for real not just to cross the road.

Very few people knew this. Until now.

I may be a fool. But I am a fool with 2 very cool children and together we are okay.

Thursday, 5 March 2015

Flip the coin.

So it's Friday. It looks like another beautiful day. I'm about to hang my washing out and get the girls packed lunches ready. I have no idea how I got here. From Monday I mean. I have floated from one task to another in a complete state of the unaware (is that real?) but I have done it. My girls are healthy and happy so my point is that you cannot die from a broken heart. Or maybe you can. Simply, I haven't. Which is a very good thing.

Nell won her class World Book Day outfit yesterday dressed as the complete 'World Book Day' rather than a character from a book with only a little interference from me. I love an opportunity to dress my kids in a flower pot, funny hat or make a costume. A wasted vocation I am certain. Let's not mention my career as a cleaner because it is self destroying right now. It is a choice and it is just for now. So, it's Friday. I did it. A whole week of carrying on whilst I felt sick, miserable and in physical pain. I haven't run. But that's okay. I will run again soon. Maybe.

He has suggested we meet to talk. He asked me if I wanted to talk. I don't. Not a single word. I will listen though. I will listen to the explanation of why I was never quite on the tip of his tongue to make me and my girls his permanent fixture. There must have been a very good theory behind it. If I could guarantee that I would walk away from seeing him and think, "Oh, I get it now. THAT'S why" then I would go with enthusiasm but I am filled with worry, anxiety and fear. I don't want to come away feeling worse. I have no idea what to do.

When Mum died I promised myself that I would keep everything straight forward and simple. I want my life to be straight forward and simple. This is. It has to be.

With my coffee in my hand, I am simply going to carry on with my day. We'll see.

Wednesday, 4 March 2015

Agony.

I'm just curious.. Is it possible to die from a broken heart? I am seriously struggling yet I know I'll be okay. In time. Just not yet. Not today. Today I feel like I'm actually dying. It really really hurts.

And then I get a message that reads, "All done" and he's referring to coming here to collect his stuff and return a few things that I lent him, pots and pans, a bed spread and a hoover. The usual shit that follows a break up. It's a shame he didn't leave the instructions of how to mend my heart. I guess I am the only one who knows how to do that. Of course I do.

And breathe.

Sunday, 1 March 2015

On my doorstep.

"You're strong" she stated as she smiled her land of smiles at me.
"Oh no I'm not" I thought but I nodded because I have had little choice.

She was referring to my core, my sheer determination, my push ups and my ability to split myself in half even when I cannot cut myself up anymore..
"I've booked you next Saturday" is what I replied to the woman that not only forces inner strength by default but can resolve pain and anguish with her hands.
"I know. I saw" she nodded and smiled at me.
Nothing could make me heal better. I will wait patiently.

Nell and I sat illegally watching Call the midwife tonight. 
"Jonny hated this didn't he?" she asked as we held hands watching the telly.
"Hmm? Which part?" I replied..

"What will you do if he comes back?" she asked me looking worried, "I think he will" she added,
"I'll be surprised, Darling" because truthfully, he's gone and I'm the wrong mother.
"Don't worry Mummy" she said, "You have me and Mary".

Thank God for the truth.

"Night darling" goes the drill as I turn the stairs at the top of the landing.
"Don't forget Toby" she calls out.

I am so grateful that I have the innocence of her words yet the experience of life to know that I can do nothing more than keep it real. No one is perfect but everyone can perfectly answer a question if asked. No need for bullshit. No need for lies. No need to pretend you don't know the answer if you do. I know. I always did and I always will.

Thank God indeed.

Saturday, 28 February 2015

Unconditional Love.

"Mummy?" said the small voice of Nell as I walked up the stairs to bed last night.
"Yes darling?" I popped my head into her bedroom..
"Do you want Toby?" 

Toby is the bear that I had as a child. Nell now has him. I have told her that he helps at night when you are worried. His main job is to stop bad dreams. It works.

"Yes please" I reply with tears running down my face.
"I thought you might" she added stretching out her arm holding my old bear.

"I love you" I tell her meaning it completely, without question.
"Love you too" she replies.
"It'll be okay" she added. 
I couldn't speak.

My daughter is 10 years old, just. But she is right. It will be okay. Why wouldn't it be?



In sickness and in health.

I might have closed the door quietly and breathed but I have never ever felt so gutted in my entire life. I believed him. I believed us. I actually thought that nothing could ever break what we had. 

I am such a fool. I feel really sick.

Egotistical Bollocks.

The sun has risen, there is hope out there for a blue sky and all is quiet in the house. The dogs are snoring on the sofa, one cat stretches in her natural yogic manner and my girls are oblivious to the drama that I have been living in recently. I made a deal. I even said it out loud. When Mum died I swore that from that day onwards, I would not allow anything in my life unless it was straight forward and simple. So obvious? Of course. As a child of an addict and an alcoholic with the unpredictability of what might come next, I drew a line underneath any expectation. That was that. Job done. Easy or not at all.

So why, I ask myself, did I ever think for a single second that getting involved with a man who had a wife was a positive thing to do? He was separated and had been unhappily married for years. Poor thing. Poor thing my arse. He made choices just like we all do but because his life didn't turn out to be the sugar coated dream he'd hoped for, he was distracted and he side stepped my way. In fact, he stood in my path waving flags of promise and crying out that he was my answer. I truly believed (a part of me still does) that I had met the man that was the missing piece of my jigsaw. I believed that fate has ensured that our paths had crossed at exactly the right time and that the recognition was mutual. It was my turn I thought. At last I understood. The years of torment and frustration were over. Here was a man who had walked into my life and was prepared to walk with me forever. In fact, he told me so.
"You are the love of my life". I sighed, dropped my shoulders and believed him. Fool.

Then Life continued. As it does if you're lucky. I wasn't quite the little mouse with a sweet smile and a patient head (or tongue often bitten) that he had presumed. My ears got bored of the incessant references to his official other half and the complaints of how he was still being treated wore me down. There is only so much I can listen to before I started to wonder why nothing is progressing. Maybe the role of victim was set to default? Maybe the need to separate didn't truly require divorce? Maybe as his distraction, to then become the reality wasn't on his choice of menu? I know what I think and perhaps I'm wrong? I could be. It happens. I do get things wrong but the trouble is, this man expected me to know all the answers and make every decision a right one. I have not a clue how marriage works (obviously) and I have no idea how to advise someone constantly when they don't expect the reply they hear.

So what do I really think? I think that men should be born with a smoke machine attached to their backsides that regularly can do what they expect us women to do daily. I think if you're married and you're unhappy, truly unhappy- deal with it before you declare undying love for a woman who didn't ask for it. I think if you have children, put them first but don't lie to them. Don't kid your kids with some fob off  excuse. I was once that child and aged 7, battered, bruised and hungry, I still knew the truth of what was going on. Face up to your choices (me too) and either walk forwards or side step but don't stand still and wonder why life is passing you by. Keep it real. Everyone wants the 'Happy ever after' but very few expect it to land on their doorstep. Oh and if you're going to ask someone if they one day might marry you, don't then dump them within a fortnight. Life is tough. We all change as things happen, jobs alter, people leave us but Life is the answer. It's the Right Now that counts. If it isn't good enough today, it almost certainly won't be better tomorrow.

I am concerned (only a little) that each relationship I dip my toe towards doesn't work out and I question my ability to share my life with a male adult. I have solid, reliable and brilliantly funny adult woman in my life who together over the last few days have advised me and made me see sense.
I envy anyone who has a happy union and hats off to you for sharing your lives together. Would I do it again? Unlikely. I need to accept that some things I cannot change and perhaps I should take heed of my own advise and Just for Today be bloody grateful that my life is my own.

One girlfriend squealed with excitement and clapping her hands with an almighty grin told me to "take a string of lovers- younger ones without the doe eyed children at his feet" and have some fun. I laughed at her ease of swiping the screen blank but that isn't what I'll do. I'm sticking to what I know:
Straight forward and simple or not at all. Amen. (quietly closes the door and breaths)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3l4nVByCL44&list=RD3l4nVByCL44