14 Months Later

Taking a Risk

Yeah, I'm taking a risk with this post. I don't think it will be seen, but it may be. I don't know yet what I'm going to write, but I know I'm going to try to explain the confusion, pain, shock, complete confusion! and everything else that's going on because of last Tuesday. Frustration is a big part.

Okay, so I was expecting a message from Olivia, one of the girls on my course at University. She was asking advice and help with the first assignment. I helped. We exchanged messages... and then I saw something unexpected. I initially thought it was spam. There was a message in my 'other' box on Facebook. I seemed to remember I'd previously received an e-mail from a woman I didn't know, whom I believe to be trying to scam me. This new message was from a female, two lovely looking women in the profile picture and a name I didn't recognise. Fully. 'Sarah Louise', but the surname was different. I had been in love with a girl named Sarah Louise Renshaw. The only girl I had ever loved. But now, 8 years after she broke up with me to go back to her monster of an ex-husband, she now has a different surname.

I felt immediate pain. She had finished with the man she left me for, then got with another man, married him, then rubbed it in my face by sending me a message.

She told me the baby on my profile picture was adorable and she hoped I was happy.

My reply was both heart felt, but humorless. I didn't want to hear from her again. A new surname. Why hadn't she got back in touch with me when she finished with her husband? This new guy was also from Leigh. My own home town. She had been close to my home, maybe passed by me on numerous occasions to see him.

Even more pain.

But she seemed interested to talk with me. Get to know me better. Find out how I was.

To tell me she was separated. (Single?)

She told me she was a different woman now than when she was with me.

I've heard this before from another woman, whom I'd tried again with. This ended badly.

We chatted a long time and exchanged messages the next day (me starting the exchange... and the next day).

Then she stopped. There was no flow. It wasn't like I messaged her and then there was a chain of replies. A single reply. No questions in it. Not interested. It took two days to reach this point.

That was Thursday. I commented on a status of hers. she didn't 'like' it, or comment on my comment.

Today is Sunday. She's 'liked' a couple of my statuses over the past couple of days. No comments though.

This next comment of mine is going to seem unbelievably stupid, but I just want to give you an idea of the place I'm in with this particular situation. A guy commented on her status. The replies were friendly and a little flirtatious (not overly). He asked to go to Christmas dinner with her (in the context of banter). It could just be banter. She invited him over (though there was an 'lol' in her reply, so she may be playing along with him, or maybe she didn't want to seem too desperate). The guy is about 10 (maybe more) times better looking than me. Looks like he has more money. I have no clue if that's what she wants. Maybe. Maybe not. Many women do.

I replied next. Previous to this, the conversation with others had been lively. But with me, there was no 'like', No comment. Blank.

She finally replied. It was only an hour, but the way I'm thinking about her is making me impatient. Honestly, I feel like shit right now. I had sort of got inured to my life. Then university had given me hope (still has). Then contact with Sarah and I think, 'what's going on? Am I still in love? Do I still want her? Yes! I do... I think. She's beautiful. To me she's beautiful. She's 42 next week. That smile. I loved her and hope I could again.'

But now... well, So, we're going to meet up a week on Thursday. Let's see. Ugh... why is it always so hard? Thank God these moments are only a temporary imposition. I need to just calm the hell down. I know where I am in life.

[I’m writing this 14 months later…]

On the Tuesday (two days before we were to meet up) she sent me a text saying she had started seeing someone else.

Passed Away

Alan Rickman died today. A couple of days ago David Bowie died. Bowie was someone I liked, but wasn't a massive fan of. Alan Rickman's passing has had a big affect on me. Saddened greatly. Philip Seymour Hoffman was a loss. Rik Mayall dying of a heart attack, then Robin Williams committing suicide I felt on an almost personal level as though they were good friends or even family. So much is passing me by. I want to meet these people and work with them. I want to say that they were my friend. I want to hear them say my name and tell me a story. I want to make them laugh and I want to have a drink with them and hear what's troubling them... I want to help them.

Alan Rickman died today, and I wasn't ready for it. It was too soon.

Wave this Way

When my life ended, I found it difficult to live with the pain I was feeling. I went to the doctor very early in my malaise and asked them for help. I would go back very regularly - maybe every month or two - and ask if there was anything they could do. I was desperate. I didn't care that I may be seen as a nuisance, I just wanted a magic drug and even a magic word that would make something click for me so I could carry on without the burden of 'grief without end'. But they could never help me. The tablets they prescribed were no good for me because my problem was not a chemical imbalance, but was something caused by the physical world. It was the immense overload of negative emotions which I could not overcome. It's ten years, later this year, that my life ended and I still need that magic wand to be waved in my direction.

Terminal

Got another appointment with the Breathlessness Department to see what it is that's causing my respiratory ailment. Last month they said I'd be receiving an appointment from the hospital for an chest examination which I still haven't received. I just hope when it's all done I find out I've got terminal cancer so all this fucking pain can be over. I've had enough.

Skin

Just because I'm opinionated, doesn't mean it's okay to call me a cunt.
Just because I speak out against your favourite ideology, doesn't mean I like being called a cunt.
Just because I'm a 40+ white male, doesn't mean I'm okay with being made to feel like a cunt.

Complain about the things I believe in and I'm fine with it.
Make fun of the things I believe in and it'll probably irritate me if I can't speak with you and have the chance of educating you.
Lie about the things I believe in to make your beliefs sound more plausible and it'll piss me off.
Tell other people that I'm something I'm not and I'll find it really difficult to get over it.
Overreact to a lighthearted comment and it'll just confirm to me that things are never going to change for me.

It used to be thick, but now my skin is thin.

Another One

I don't know what it is about what I say, or the way I say things that people so regularly choose to take what I say (or more likely - write) in a bad way. Friends have fun with each other. They tease each other. Not in a nasty way, but in an affectionate way. So why, when I feel I have a friend and I say something playful to them, do they choose to hear what I say as mean?

for god's sake