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.