And we're off...

Hi London


Just thought it might save some time next time I see you if you've had a wee catch up...


After seeing you on Thursday and bouncing along into Friday which work-wise ended on a high for a change, takeaway for tea with a bottle of wine...oh, and the promise of a date on Saturday with mysterious new paramour Computer Man (it's not a Super Power, he just fixes them) or as he shall hence be known as CM...does life get any better?


Cue 7pm...the Gods of Karma have awoken

Text from BigEx...can we meet...need to talk...I know everything

He does, I know he does, and he has done for a long time.

Life begins to crash down around me, all the life has been sucked out of me and I'm a crushed up coke can in the corner

We meet on sat for a coffee


Things are never going to be the same again


I leave our little rendezvous with very little respect to the Highway Code as I drive home in an hypnotic state.


Waves of sickness overcome me followed closely by cramping pangs of deep despair


I spend the rest of the day curled up in a ball of angst-ridden depression


The date with CM tonight is clearly unrealistic


Sunday dawns, Mothers Day...my present to my Mum? the news that BigEx "knew". Mum knew most of it from the start, she was there at the cemetery with me when He kept turning up. And she was there when I kept getting all those texts from Him. And she heard me saying No. A lot.


But we made it through the day and at night...rain checked from last night, that hot date with CM.


Waves of nausea aside, it was a very pleasant evening. Ok it was magic.


Off to The City to a nice hotel for the next couple of days with Mum (my real Mothers Day present to her). Only spending 85% of my waking moments going over the conversation with BigEx so thats progress.


Wednesday, Dads anniversary. A game of two halves. Kick off at 7am begins with overwhelming desire to phone his mobile and tell him not to go to work. A morning of tackles (just give it a ring) and defense (wise up, he's nae there) ensues til the whistle blows for half time at 1.00.

He's gone.

Everyone, suck some oranges, we've got a long fight ahead.

Whistle blows, second half. Slow motion. Fuck me, its like running in mud, will this game ever end? More relentless tackling (but WHY did he have to go then?) and some admirable defense (sometimes things happen for a reason) but no thats it, the games over. Final whistle.

Score?

Nil-Nil


Nothing. Nada. No reason. No explanation. No DIY guru who fixes everything. No-one to tell me how to put a horse on for the Grand National. No-one to tell me what that noise in my car is. No-one to tell me honestly whether my new hat makes me look like Benny from Crossroads. No-one to share a bottle of wine with over fish and chips on a Tuesday night. No-one to ask for give-it-to-me-straight advice on boyfriends. No-one to give me that half-patting kind of hug and whiskery kiss (not a mis-spell, well he loved a good whisky but he always had a beard) on Birthdays and Christmas'. No-one to walk me down the aisle. And no-one to be Grandad to my babies.


Not that I was getting ahead of myself here. I'd only know CM for a wee while but was quietly optimistic about the way things were going. Very comfortable with him, lots in common, makes me laugh, very stylish and so damn hot! But let me make this very clear, I was all for taking it slow.


/// Cue wavy lines \\\


Can you hear the rumbling?


Its those damn Karma Feckers again!


A week later CM has the good grace to bin me.


Sample quotes:


"I'm a shit boyfriend, I don't put in any effort and I don't want to mess you around"


pfft


"I really like you and that's why I don't want to mess you about, can we still be friends?"


double pfft


"blah blah since my ex blah blah"


fountain of pfft


Exit Stage Left, CM


Feotal position resumed.


No tears though, no roofs nor walls collapsing, but yes that ever present nauseous feeling. And numb. Very very numb.


Nothing else for it...bring in the troops. Outright invasion is called for. In the absence of Captain Morgan then Lieutenant Jacob Creek will have to step in. All aboard? Let the battle commence.


I'd love to be able to bring you daily updates from the Battlefield but since Lt Creek has been in charge the last few weeks have traversed in a haze. His able Private Mary Jane has been a constant companion at his side and a welcome distraction.


So where are we now?


Well that is the question. And should one know the answer to that? Answers on a postcard to the usual address...




So apologies London for the general ramblings but knowing how prone to tangents I am, I figured this might help when I see you next.


Looking forward to seeing you, and hope you've had a nice break


H x