Reflection

Well, I've had a few days to mull things over a bit more and had written loads and loads about our early relationship, but it doesn't seem to read too well. I think, put simply, when you look at even the early stages of our relationship, there were a lot of wobbles and there were no deep foundations to us as a couple. I'll try and reword it, as I think analysing it might help me come to terms with it.  I do know that I have seen the girl I fell in love with reappear these past few weeks, and in turn, the young Idiot has decided to make a return as well. Unfortunately, she neither sees nor believes it is him! More unfortunately, even if she did believe, it seems her love is no longer the same.

I was in a state right up until the weekend, pressuring her directly and indirectly...texts, phone calls, conversations...and acting like a self-pitying adolescent on every occasion!  I still feel the same way about her, just able to see the past and possible futures with a bit more clarity. My heart no longer feels like it is trying to break its way out of my sternum, which is a great relief!

The final split let me open the black box where I had stored away all my emotions for her, and the stark realisation that what I had thought was a lack of love for her was in fact just very carefully hidden away. Hidden from both her and from me, such was the good job I had done of putting it in a lead coffin and burying it under resentment and layer upon layer of protective sheets.  It all then came bursting to the surface when the pressure got too much, trying to come to terms with what she said to me.

I was worried that it was just a reaction to rejection and the guilt and anger over our two amazing children. However, despite the passing of the initial emotion, I know that there is a pure and unconditional love for her. It truly is a deep and profound love, with layers and levels of its own. At the same time, I can see how utterly fruitless it is if she does not feel the same way. It hurts of course, but with each day the prospect of a future without her by my side gets easier to cope with.

I still hope there is a chance, however miniscule, of a fairy tale ending. Not the stuff of the Brothers Grimm, but my own little one. It's a simple one, that ends with the little things I have missed out on for the past 3 or so years...walking hand in hand; holding her chin with the tips of my fingers and kissing her; lying on the sofa with her resting her head on me; holding her close to me, feeling the warmth of her skin; looking into her eyes as she smiles that wonderful smile; talking politics, film, music, religion...; making her laugh and laughing along with her; going to sleep next to her and waking up in the same place..and so I could go on until you begged me to stop.  Most of all, I have a vision in my head, a dream that doesn't go away, of seeing her walking towards me, beaming so it melts my heart on our wedding day - both of us committing to the other, in front of our kids and closest family. I should add that the reason I missed out on these things is partly, majorly, down to me. It is not anyone's 'fault' as such, but neither of us took the opportunities to fix things before now. 

There doesn't seem to be much hope of that though, and I am a realist. The things she has said and not said make me think there won't be a magic ending. It's a shame, as the real Th'idiot is not so much a changed man, but has cast off the disguise he was wearing and is ready to save the day. Sadly, the damsel in distress has got bored of waiting and caught the bus home.

A date with a Gorilla

Nervous, sweating, unable to eat all day, no sleep the night before. I'd had to double check she was even coming, I was so sure she would pull out, change her mind, find something better to do. But no, it was still on, meeting at Tower Hill after work. I even warned her that I was not Steve, convinced she had us confused and would be let down when my ugly mug loomed out of the darkness at Tower Hill. 

With an uncommon burst of logic and forethought, I even managed to swap mobile numbers with her, in case either of us was running late.

And so in a massively oversized coat that I thought was smart and made me look kind of 60s cool (I inherited it from an uncle) I waited at Tower Hill. And waited...a few minutes passed, then a few more...pessimism kicked in. She isn't coming, I thought. Of course, this could never be, the universe returns to its natural order. With a heavy heart I wondered how miserable I could make my face and how slow I could walk back to the tube. But wait! A text to say she was running late. Welcome back nerves, sweats, anorexia etc etc.

And there she was, as beautiful as I remembered, but not as drunk. Yet.

It was an awkward walk from Tower Hill to St Katharine's Dock...not because of my legs but because we didn't know what to say. I remember words coming out but my brain telling me to 'shut the f**k up, as you are an idiot and really not impressing anyone'. Of course mouth ignored brain.

And so we headed into one of my favourite London pubs, The Dickens Inn. Yes it's a tourist trap, but I love it.

We found a table, I got the drinks, we started talking and laughing and drinking...all I knew after a few hours was that I genuinely loved the girl opposite me. My face hurt from smiling so much, surely a good sign? We might as well have been alone, as she was all I could concentrate on and everyone else around us was just background noise.

At the start of the evening she had told me she was going to go home. I needed to get her to Fenchurch Street before the last train...and being a well mannered young man I had every intention of respecting her wish. "Have another drink", I said.

She had missed her train. Being a well mannered young man (remember?), I offered her a bed for the night, with me to sleep on the sofa. I was so smitten that I meant it as well. I didn't want to but I would.

As we stepped into the cold night, my massive coat* turning me back into a walking barrel, we linked arms and stumbled away. After a few paces, I stopped to look at the dock and the boats floating in the dark waters. I faced her, pulled her close and we kissed. A magical, special kiss. The kind of girl I'd always dreamed about had not only turned up, she had laughed with me, enjoyed my company and not disappeared after saying she needed the loo. And here we were, kissing and smiling and skipping off towards Waterloo.

We walked over Tower Bridge, floating on air, London was our best friend and life was going to be alright.

I decided to play my trump card...how could a woman resist a man who's best mates owned a bar? Yes, let's pop in for a drink before we head back to my home. I forgot that before my friends had owned it, the bar had been a gay dungeon. To me it was somewhere to drink. To someone else it would probably look like somewhere that used to be a gay dungeon and then painted green. We didn't stay long.

Finally, back to Clapham to a room in my shared house.  I offered to sleep in the lounge but she said no. All I remember then is kissing her and one of the best nights of my life.

I was still nervous and doubtful the next  morning, sure that she would see this as a mistake, a drunken moment that she would instantly regret. However, she was smiling and talking to. She must still be drunk, of course!

And so we took our hangovers for a walk to the station. Her in the same clothes as the night before, she really hadn't planned to stay. Me in the same clothes, I really was quite a lazy idiot.

*The coat - the source of much laughter from her in later weeks. She said that when she met me for our first date, it made me look huge. I'm not the tallest man in the world - I describe myself as average but some of my colleagues insist I am short (they are wrong). Anyway, she hated the coat but it did have one good effect, when I took it off she saw I wasn't really a gorilla dressed as man. In fact she rather liked what she saw. I stopped wearing the coat. Now she's not in my life, I wonder if I will start to make dodgy fashion decisions again?

 

 

The world's first internet relationship (probably)...

So, let's run through how it all happened...not for you but for me...just to see if it sheds light on how it came to this.

Many many many years ago (well about 12 years), we met in a bar in Holborn after work. We were both drunk and her little group of friends joined my little group of friends, playing drinking games and generally annoying everyone else around us. We had a bit of a tipsy snog and went our separate ways, with me thinking I'd never see her again (I had a habit of getting drunk, plucking up the courage to speak to someone nice then getting drunker, so that I put them off for life by being, well an idiot).

What I did remember through the drunken memories was her smile and her trousers, well more the way they fit than the actual trousers, but I'm trying to be a gentleman. Anyway, ignoring the last bit, it was her smile that stuck. I even remember thinking a day later that she was the perfect woman in how she looked, smiled and laughed.

What I didn't know was that my mate Steve had got her and her friend's email addresses...now Steve sat next to me at work and I was pleasantly surprised when he copied me in on emails he was sending to both of them (please note that this was never on work time and I was a hard working, conscientious drone member of staff at the company I loathed working for. Honest).  With no intention other than being friendly, we started chatting. Soon the group email was just me and her, this beautiful girl who was reduced in my mind to a Cheshire Cat smile that made me go funny.

To begin with, we emailed briefly to catch up and have a laugh. Then over time, the emails grew more frequent and in-depth. Within a few weeks we were emailing regularly and questioning each other on everything about our lives and loves and hates. We still hadn't seen each other since, just cultivated a really close relationship online. Then finally, I plucked up the courage to ask her to meet me. I was low on confidence at the time after a run of bad relationships, so this was a big thing for me. I was convinced she would take one look at me and do a runner. Luckily my friends told me to stop being an idiot and meet her.

So the date was set...

And so it begins...a few weeks ago, my partner of 12 years and I realised we had reached a point where our relationship had completely broken down. I honestly thought that splitting up was what I wanted - but as soon as we had finished the 'chat', Pandora's Box of emotions was unlocked and I have regretted it ever since.

Despite pleading (not dignified, no), begging (is that not still pleading?) and asking for another chance, my long suffering ex has steadfastly refused to change her mind. So, here I am, back at my parents home, where I really don't want to be, in between staying with family friends when I am at work in London.

Add into that equation - the two children that I have with my ex; my bloke emotions struggling to cope with rejection; unrequited love; guilt and generally realising I am an idiot...

So this little blog is going to be where I get my thoughts down and stop myself from texting and phoning her every 5 minutes. I thought that being in my late 30s I'd have left the adolescent emotions behind, but no, I still act like a lovesick 6th former.

Any advice, distraction or humour to get this idiot through will be greatly appreciated.