Wednesday, August 17, 2016

100 Days

When we met in town in January I was staying at the Hilton. I am still immature enough to steal the bathroom condiments, and so I took this bottle of shower gel back across the world with me.




Although nothing happened between us, each time I used that shower gel it somehow brought back that lovely evening we spent together. So 100 days passed, as you assured me that we had a connection and that I had nothing to worry about. And as you seemed just as keen to see me again as I was you. I mentioned the shower gel one time and you said, "to think I could've come back to your hotel room and used that shower gel"

By coincidence this thing was still in my wash bag when I met you again 100 days later. When I met the inert you. The one who humored me,  and somehow implied it was all in my mind "I would never have done that" you opined " I would never have had a one night stand" and as for the connection "but you hardly know me!' what did you think would happen? that we would walk off into the sunset!"

Well I spent 100 days pining for you and now I have spent 100 days getting over you coincidentally around the same 100 days that Sadiq Khan has been mayor of London.

The other day I walked out on my balcony and saw tiny shoots forming on the tree outside my window. That tree was being lopped one day as we chatted endlessly on Whats-app about our lives
and our plans and our excitement of seeing each other again. Well those tiny shoots are now a sign that I have moved on. They are the tiny shoots of recovery.



And another rather obvious thought came to mind. Beyond "I planned a gorgeous retreat with you and got a horrible rebuttal" the thought was three fold. One: basically you are all talk and no
trouser. It was all very well at a distance, and maybe you felt something for me at the time, but you didn't have the guts or the will to follow through with it. Two: I was nothing but a teenage
fantasy gone bad, or three: we are quits.  Yes we are. You got a Winter of interesting fantasies to warm your cold nights and I got some free accommodation in the Spring time. Very transactional is
point three.

But more obvious still, and in the real world, why did I ignore this particular fact of the case...?. You moved out from your marital home in September, you asked your lovely gorgeous perfect and
compatible-in-every-way friend to find a place with you in "oh I dunno around erm..October" (and she stalled you). I turned up in January and somehow filled a void. There is a real possibility that you left your wife for her and your new love didn't (at least not immediately) work out and you were sad and frustrated, and in walked me. I ignored this fact for days 1-100 because I didn't know it. It was drip fed to me on about day 130 after I came back to see you. I was so inclined to think the best of you, or to believe that you and I did have a connection and were friends that I didn't give it credence until about day 180. But, yes the transactional point three is probably the truth of the matter. I was caught in the vortex of your mid-life crisis. I have come out bruised and battered but increasingly less confused.

In a less monumentally hurtful and life rocking way this same thing happened with Seamus. He left his wife for a colleague who then didn't work out, and in walked me.

Which is why I simply laughed when I received an email from Ex23.


I think you are are the biggest missed opportunity of my life. No doubt, you hate this, but there it is.

and

I dream of no body but you

No No No I am way to fragile to go round that loop again.



Sunday, August 07, 2016

Reality check

Today I told myself a simple story that has been consoling about George. I know I have already said that I need to give myself time, and that he seems to have the need to come up smelling of roses and be beyond reproach.  However,  the simple fact of the matter is that I was looking forward to something lovely, and I got something horrible, and he did not accept his role in this. So I have been left holding this metaphorical baby of disappointment and hurt. Despite his superficially gentlemanly behaviour this was a cruel thing to do. 

Sunday, July 31, 2016

I wish I'd never met you

I wish I'd never met you

This is something Simon said to me after we split up, when he was happily ensconced in his rebound relationship. I really don't know where it came from, and at the time though it seems quite a cruel thing to say. It was like water off a ducks back.



I certainly didn't feel the same about him, as we had had a beautiful baby together who was and is the center of my world.

But I have felt it about George, only in that all that mooching, and swooning and longing was for nought really.  My time would've been better spent on work. In fact, at my own hand I may have done some career damage by taking my hand of the wheel and my eyes off the road.

And I got nothing in return nothing.  As I said in my last post but one, there wasn't even companionship, or long term friendship. He didn't take me out with his circle of friends. Although at the end of my visit he said  "I'm sorry, I haven't been around as much as I would have liked" really an equally plausible explanation was that he was actually rather embarrassed by my presence and keeping himself deliberately busy.  I could have reacted in that way in his position both of us possibly being inclined to avoid conflict. Though I hope I would've had the courage to be more up front about things.

I wonder what I stopped Simon from doing? Becoming a Sandinista in Nicaragua maybe,  or remaining productively and happily child free? or travelling the world like a sort of hobo Robin Hood taking from the rich and giving to the poor and living a very simple vegan life unencumbered bu worldly possessions? 

Collateral damage in other peoples' mid life crises

Maybe the Christmas Box worked, or maybe other crises took over because today I am feeling better about it. Maybe just the separation is working, the slow growing apart that has to happen. The acknowledgement that I never did, and still don't really know him and am not part of his inner circle or ever will be. Maybe even that apart from the structural things we are still unsuited. I don't really like watching sport in pubs for example, and I am not particularly motivated by money.

I had a little run in at work.Someone is telling tales about me, which resulted, through some sort of Chinese whisper process in me being accused of gossip. Career damaging gossip, by a person senior to me, who holds a great deal of power. My conscience is clear, I never said the things about this person that they suspect me of.  But still unsettling, and I honestly can't remember what I have said to anyone that might've brought this accusation on. 

At the base of both of these problems might be that the people in question are insecure. George was very vulnerable after his divorce and he sucked me into a sort of fantasy, or not entirely normal way of being which was ultimately damaging to my psyche. Same with this senior colleague. That colleague has very generally acted in some rather "sailing close to the wind" ways, and so for all the gossip floating around a chunk of it has been pinned on me. A sort of deflection if you will. I have become collateral damage in that persons mid-life crisis as well. 

I just need to spot this problem from afar off in future.


Monday, July 25, 2016

The Christmas Box

I had already decided to not read any of the emails or texts that had passed between George and I until Christmas. It is just too painful to read. Anyway. I still am haunted by disturbing thoughts despite being on anti-depressants, giving myself time, seeking out counselling, and sleeping and eating properly, taking exercise, getting out and meeting people. Still. I can't let it go. I read about mindfulness and being in the present and when you have a negative thought, label it, and let it float away.

Float away
I wish. I have to put those thoughts somewhere. So whenever I have a triggering thought I put it in a box to be opened at Christmas. The reason is, perversely thoughts of him still give me some kind of pleasure. But they are fruitless and ultimately hurt me and I am hurting myself. So if I can just put them on hold until I can deal with them. Perhaps they won't be important by then.


So here is what is in here so far. Sailing, twins, grand pianos, the shipping forecast, anyone called George, miniature schnauzers, the whole of London, the whole of Portugal, my old school and all the friends in it, the city of London, the stock exchange, anything to do with Risk or portfolio management, sheet music, mashed potato, sausages, brandy, Battersea, Marathon running, private banking, Norfolk,.. 

Friday, July 15, 2016

Privilege and Integrity







Did I learn anything about myself, or love? not so sure. But here are some mixed reflections on privilege


The old boy network
Part of feeling ripped off by this whole situation was that I realised, had I stayed in my COO like many of my friends I could've made use of my "old boy" network. Through connections via my family, my school I could've gained my access into I dunno, sailing clubs, the city, good and appropriate marriages.. But thinking on this for a while I find it quite repellent, and back then I was no different. I didn't want any easy course to success. I wanted to make it myself. which is why maybe subconsciously I landed up in a new country far far away with a clean slate. This instinct was much guided by my ex husband who probably felt this idea more keenly, or likely did not have the network I had.  So unlike George and his ilk, I rejected this world as elitist and snobbish. To my detriment or not? I mean as a woman a good marriage could be the path of least resistance, but I didn't want to play second fiddle to any man, I wanted to be successful in my own right.


George as a catalyst
I've been homesick for 25 years. When a gorgeous handsome articulate man in my COO showed an interest in me. My simple mind, without much conscious thought, took this as a balance tipping event. Now there was more to send me back than to keep me here. Now there was someone who I really liked and admired that I would love to form an allegiance with.


But after the weird lukewarm, dismissive behaviour he demonstrated. We never actually did anything together socially. In my darker moments I even think I was an embarrassment to him. Possibly he is a catalyst for staying away. Who wants to live in a class-ridden society surrounded by money obsessed self-centred toffs? even if it does end in granite top benches and holidays in Martinique. Yes. The old self speaks. Maybe this is a call  to appreciate what I have, where I am


Loving things that can't love you back.
But I still can't shake the notion that is was love of a kind. He baulked at this notion, but as you know I am quite practiced at loving things that can't love me back. Maybe this came from having an autistic brother, or losing babies. I knew quite emphatically that I loved them when I had never met or known them.  I so much wanted to be part of his life. To turn the clock back maybe a reconnect with the life I didn't have, the choice I didn't make. I felt completely at home in his home. He exhibited all the notions of good taste I had been brought up to admire. He was tirelessly gentlemanly and he was accomplished. He had a childhood in common with me. He was touchingly vulnerable. We had so many things in common. But in the final analysis he was a bit of a wanker to be honest. All this counts for nothing if you are not true to your word. Maybe I could write off his behaviour as that of a brilliant man, capricious, mercurial, driven by higher things. But that would be flattering him I fear. He messed with my head and only now am I starting to find healing.

Thursday, July 07, 2016

I'm not mad


I have got to the point where I am sick of myself over this. George has left emotionally probably in early May. I on the other hand am still nursing  a crush, an obsession even, It reminds me of a rather plain girl at school. I think she might even have been special needs, but she got the idea she was dating my very good looking teenage next door neighbor. She had his photo in her wallet. We all knew nothing was going on, and it was sad sad sad... who knows though maybe at some point he had encouraged her. Snogged her at a party or something.

 Anyway I am that girl.

I am deluded.





George has left the building, and I am completely unable to stop my learnt behaviour of constantly polling for messages from him. He largely ignores me, but if he ever does get in touch it is super polite. Today I finally cut myself some slack. After all, from Jan 12 through to May 1 (that's  101 days) I was actively being "courted" by George, and  I enjoyed it very much, I came to depend on it. I felt someone was taking an interest in my life. He was texting me every day. It waxed and waned a little, but no more than one would expect with a busy person. Never more than 48 hours, and just before I left to go and be with him he was still saying things like "Not long now XX" or "are you excited? I am x" .So no wonder it is taking me a little while for it to sink in that there was, from my point of view, a sudden turn around. After initially leading me on, he announced the change in circumstances and kind of expected me to go "oh right" and disappear after he'd previously asked what it would take for me to move to his country, and pondering if I would ever be as into him as he was into me. He never unsaid any of those things. The turnaround was so dramatic it just took a little while for my brain to adapt. It was very heartbreaking too. People laugh at me and say "of course you weren't in love" of course you're not heartbroken, but I regret that I was. Maybe I did turn him off, By being emotional, unconfident, less attractive than he remembered.  I think the more likely scenario is that his other girl who is beautiful, confident and highly successful,  became, for one reason or another, more of a prospect. I am quite good at second guessing these things. Maybe even my presence made her keener.

So when he was leading me on, was he mad? was he on drugs? I think it is one of those things that I will never properly understand and I just have to say case closed. I just need to give it time.

Wednesday, July 06, 2016

Cliches serve me best

Well look its July!

And I'm still brooding. He said "I hope you won't be disappointed" I wasn't disappointed, I was actually hurt and felt a little betrayed. It would really have been better for him to spell things out much earlier on.

Maybe three months of believing I was in love and that love was being returned has left me with at least six months of unproductive time, obsessive thoughts and general malaise. I have to move on. This has been like no other love described on this blog. It is almost as though my very chemistry changed and my brain has ridges pressed into it as though it were a ball of putty which are taking such a long time to iron out.

George's behaviour when I was back in my home country was hard to understand, but it was not inconsistent with him really not giving a shit. Or giving very little of one. At worst I was an embarrassment,  at best I was kind of a gentlemanly duty. Even this last week he sms'd me

It has been stupidly busy..I am sorry I haven't around as much as I would have liked..see you tomorrow..x

I should've left him as a potential lover /left him wanting more rather than serving myself up as I did. Then maybe in the future when he was more free we could've revisited things. But I was crazy about him, had a small window of opportunity, thought he was single and in the end had a lot of trouble letting go of that. I am still in the hangover phase.

So it seems cliches serve me best in coping with it.

"Handsome is as handsome does"
"Words are cheap"
"Actions speak louder than words" there have been a lot of words, but the actions were eventually rather dismissive and uncaring
"Out of sight, out of mind"  it is actually best for me not to check social media for evidence of him. I am aware that I still get a weird kick out of just seeing him and observing his life, but it is ultimately mis placed.
"Least said soonest mended" managing to restrain myself from telling the whole sorry tale to whoever will listen, and perhaps this is helping me not to feed it.

That kind of thing...