I can’t think the 4 years were all bad. Whatever she thinks of me now she would have to agree with that. They were not. We had a blast too. Way too much to list. We laughed more then we cried, and that was all I needed. She needed to never cry. We enjoyed each others company and felt comfortable together. We were also blessed with a god-given animal magnetism that we could rely on when all words failed! 😉
But It wasn’t all about my stuff, all the time. She could be reactionary, broke her word regularly, could be moody, depressed, spiteful, revengeful and it was sometimes hard to see the sense in her thinking. She was always tired and just wanted to crash most days after work. She worked hard. She didn’t like it that I didn’t have to. Its been pointed out to me recently that there is more jealousy for my ability to do as I please than I ever imagined. I had never considered that.
But NG certainly had own stuff going on more often than not. Her Demons. I accepted stuff that was hard to stomach too when she took another man under my roof. I couldn’t live there after that. It was hard but I forgave her. I put myself in her shoes as much as I could. It wasn’t easy to trust her after all that. But she had earned it back. She told me it would never happen again.
I trusted her when she said I would always be a friend no matter what. When she told me she was moving back in less than 3 weeks. I trusted her to make the year we just fought our way through worth all the effort, pain and uncertainty. I trusted her when she wanted me back when I confided I had started talking to a woman on a dating site during another period of no contact at her request. I had my share of broken promises and let downs too.
She knows how hard it is for me to give trust after what my mother did with it. But through all our struggles together and apart we were always friends. Maybe more than lovers. I trusted her endlessly the more I think about it.
I gave her my trust every time I told her how much I loved her. Every time I believed her when she said she’d always care, even if we split we’d always be friends. I trusted her tbe last day I ever spent with her when she told me we were going to make it but not to tell anyone.. I did as she asked. I would never have left for Turkey had I known she might not be there on my return. I only went as she was working all week and I had a week off to kill. I delayed the trip to spend her days off with her. They turned out to be our last two days together. I can’t even remember if we made love one last time. I hope it was more than once if we did! We would have as I was going away.. I’m glad I didn’t know it was the last time. I only went to Turkey because I trusted her for fuck’s sake! I still have the cake box that was carefully wrapped with her sweets and the Adidas hoodie I brought back for her. I bought the cakes after she had texted me she was leaving in the hope she didn’t mean it, would calm down and still be there calling me a ‘cock’ and then laughing as I showed my relief.
We only argued because I wanted to get her present absolutely right and she could not remember the name. It was not even an argument that made her go, just misunderstood text message. I wish I hadn’t fussed. Her Chinese was still in the fridge when I got home to the empty flat that night. The bed still smelling of her.
She was not easy to be with toward the end. Aloof and distracted. And that before her terrible health news. After Majorca she was different. I hoped she was just run down. Tired of working two jobs. She was all those things and sick too I know now.
We always cared if the other was ok, coping? Always. Through Thick and Thin.
I know love is not a permanent state. We fall in and out of that. I have probably lost faith in love. All things considered. But I am and never will be capable of not caring for those whose lives I have shared and have in turn touched my life deeply. I still talk to all my exs bar two, one dating back over 20 odd years. It’s irregular but that’s how it should be.
She said I was never there when she needed me. And fate did play us some rotten cards for sure. But there were thousands of other times when I was. But they don’t count. Only the few times I was not will be remembered.
If it keeps her feelings vindicated so be it. If it helps her to hate me, it’s ok. I can’t change that. I’m sorry she feels that way.
And hope as I might that she still might gives the tiniest of shits for me, there is only evidence they she doesn’t.
Perhaps she never did.