I’ve been sleeping like the dead over the last couple of nights and think I may have come to some form of completion. I’m whispering it rather than shouting though,  as I thought I was here before…

I could not face one lovely friends 40th birthday party – too much forced gaiety; I cried off instead in order to be cosseted by another old friend who cooked me a roast. In the evening, I was powerfully describing my plans to him and encouraging him to take on his life (he’s single, handsome, almost 50 with a pathological fear of rejection). In the morning he asked me how it felt to be in love. I was weak and tearful as I got present to the promises that man made me – about how I would never have to sleep with anyone else again , how he would look after me. All the things I yearned to hear.

This self pitying streak continued for most of the day. I had been putting off speaking to my parents for weeks for fear of crying and in the end they chased me down. Tearfully describing the promises he had made me to my mum, I said “I just want someone to look after me!”. Her reply was just so unexpected it brought me up short. “I know, but we don’t always get what we want in life do we?”. 

This from a mother who has had a world view her whole life that everything has to be perfect;,that settling down is a good and required thing; that any sadness is a bad thing. Hence my tendencies to pull my metaphorical socks up all the time! She went on to say that marriage and settling down isn’t for everyone.

I don’t know why this was so powerful for me but it had the immediate effect of my being able to put him in the past. I’m having friends ask me about how it will be to see him and what he’s up to with his wife, whether I think they will make it work and I just see it as none of my business any more. My best friend who met him said she found him lovely, but ponderous in comparison to me. She thought his  weak and indecisive nature would drive me mad. I now see our differences very sharply. Perhaps in me he saw possibility, exoticism and a big life. But having camped out in my life for a while, he  discivered he liked his own more local life after all.  One interpretation is that I was used. Another that  he just got his wings burnt.


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