I sat down and worked out that for at least half of my adult life – having passed the magical ‘adult’ age of 21 – I’ve spent exactly half of my adult life living alone.
That’s 19 years. So I’m not a stranger to that solo state. There are benefits. At home you can be horrifyingly selfish. Watch trashy TV. Eat sandwiches for every meal. Never have to get that resigned nod when you want to buy something. Not brush your hair unless you’re going out.
And of course there’s the flip side. No longer part of a team when two people to work out the best course of action. No one to say that I’m being ridiculous when I actually was being a bit silly. No one to eat with when I’ve pulled out all the stops to make a great meal. Feeling a failure. No hugs.
There’s the rub. Hugs are really important.
Your virtual hugs have given me so much solace. The stories that some people have shared have made me weep. Why do some people need to be so cruel?
Danny is a good guy. I’m fond of him. He is still clearing out his stuff so we meet regularly. We chat on the phone. He is building a life way outside the boundaries of my life. Of course I’m curious but don't want to pry. A long distance relationship with an ex can be so deceptively easy.
It’s when he backs his car, new to him, into the drive that I quail a bit inside. For the first few minutes I hate him. Want to prove that it was right to split up. Long for the dogs to growl and snap when he reaches out a hand to .them. In fact I'm beastly on the inside as I offer D a cup of coffe.
Within half and hour I’m enjoying the fact that we are now just two people with a lot of good things in common.
Our exclusive one to one relationship had run out of steam. I must admit, I do mourn that, more than I can say. We both tried valiantly to keep it going.
Since he left the tears that used to dominate my day have gradually dispersed. They’re still there. Often returns are unexpected and surprising. Yesterday, in the supermarket car park, I was knocked back by tears. Thank god I’d done my shopping and was sitting in my car. So I just let go and sobbed – hoping that no one that I knew would spot my car and approach with an encouraging smile. People are frightened by disasters, so it was unlikely.
Of course I feel very low sometimes.
I’ve joined the gaggle of single businessmen looking for a tempting evening meal for one in the local supermarket. Gradually I’ve stopped overbuying food that I just can’t consume – Danny always ate for at least two. After fifteen years it's hard to trim my shopping list.
Apart from the sobs, I’m now feeling so much better than I’ve done for years. A very long time ago I used to feel a tingling in my feet – it made me think that I was charged with some sort of super energy.
Last night when I was relaxing, Min Pins on lap, my feet tingled. With tears of relief, I cried.
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