I stood looking at him with a pain in my heart like I've never experienced before and I thought but didn't say, you think? The tears hadn't started yet. I had held it in for the arrangements, the writing of the eulogy, the actual memorial service and we had just come back to the house from the funeral. I was standing in the kitchen trying to figure out what I was doing. Was I putting the left over booze in the fridge or taking it out to the garage? Where would I put all this food? Why in the hell did my mother have to die?
He was asking me questions about my future. Questions I hadn't had time to consider or think about yet. Questions that I didn't want to think about, a part of me still in denial of what had just happened. Questions that would have to be answered, but later. Much later. I needed to cry first.
I didn't know that those questions, the ones I couldn't answer would be the beginning of our end. I couldn't know that then, in my numb state. I didn't have one ounce of emotion left for anyone or anything. I was robbed of all my energy and just wanted to crawl into bed and sleep for a long, long time. The six weeks sleeping in the hospital at my mother's side had taken a toll on me.
I didn't care at that moment that I seemed different. I was. I had just lost one of the most important people in my life and I would forever be different because of that.
But I didn't believe that after all the support and care I had given to him over the past 10 years that he would not be there for me. I couldn't imagine that he wouldn't be patient and allow me the time I needed to sort through my new reality and come to terms with my loss. That's why I didn't force myself to try and answer his questions, or comfort him and make him know that it would be OK, because I couldn't.
And because I was so low, I started to stay home on weekends, sorting through the belongings and trying to put order in my house. I thought, we are both adults. People who love one another understand and will wait patiently.
I was wrong. Or maybe I was right, and it didn't happen that way because there was no love on his part. I didn't stop loving or caring. But I was neglectful. I wasn't doing the things I used to do. I wasn't pushing myself to do all my chores after work and before sleep so that I could be available to go to his country estate on the weekends.
Instead I was sleeping in my own bed and laying in late every day, even work days. I was struggling with all the basic things in life, such as the following:
- getting out of bed
- getting dressed
- eating
- focusing on my job
- not crying
- keeping my voice strong when some caring soul asked how I was doing
- cooking
- cleaning
- leaving the house
- paying my bills
- and just living
We were in touch every day by telephone and more often on weekends. It was a big change for us both. So we tried to stay connected as much as possible. I tried to go to the estate when his son would be there because he is like a son to me and I didn't want to disappoint him.
I couldn't always do that though, because to pretend that I was happy and cheerful was too hard. It was something that I couldn't muster and I didn't want to bring everyone else down, so some weekends even when he was there, I stayed home.
I did get there for bf's birthday weekend and brought my friends along to celebrate. I made a big deal of it and it felt good. I was also available for his son's birthday, even though it was the day after my mother's and it was the first birthday without my mom, I didn't let that spoil his day.
He had informed me in March that I was not his gf. I thought he was just angry because of my absence. I still didn't have the energy to do what I needed to keep it together. So I accepted that it was over, but deep down inside, I thought that once I got myself together, we would possibly be able to fix things. I would be able to dance again, just as fast as I once did, and he would be happy. He continued to call me on a regular basis and invite me to dinner with him and his son. It didn't really seem like anything had changed except that he didn't talk to me as much on weekends anymore.
I thought that in my absence, he would have time to reflect on our relationship and in the end he would realize that he had a good thing. I never really felt appreciated or loved. When he called on Tuesday night and started to tell me what a wonderful person I was, I thought that I was right. I have a hard time accepting compliments. It makes me uncomfortable. I'm more at ease, giving than receiving. But I listened to it. My face blushing and a smile from ear to ear, until he touched my heart with how much he misses me. Then I started to cry. I miss him too, but I can't see any other way right now. I have to get my house in order. I have to prepare for the possibility that I may have to rent a room to hang onto it. That means sorting and getting rid of boxes that my mother and I had been carrying around with us for years.
He continued with the touching words, telling me how much his son loves me and that he hopes I will always be in his life, no matter what, and I started to cry even more as memories of his son and I snorkelling for hours in the shallow waters looking for fish and treasures flashed through my mind and the thought that I would not have that anymore seemed unbearable. He knew I was crying. I couldn't hold back the tears any longer. He kept telling me that he hoped I would feel better after we talked. He said that more than once, and I couldn't understand what he was about to tell me that would make the pain I was experiencing disappear. Then he told me that I am a great catch and that he hoped that one day some man would fall madly in love with me and treat me like the Queen I was.
I'm not sure what was mentioned next, but I mustered up a question. I asked if he had told his son. He said he had and then he moved right into "I'm seeing someone else". I almost didn't hear him. I was thinking about what his son's reaction was. I had to confirm that I had heard right.
"Did you just say you are seeing someone else?"
He said yes, and then let me know that he had already introduced his son to her and that he didn't really like her. I was stunned. No I was floored. I was in his life for a few years before I ever met his son, or he met my family - because it was casual in the beginning.
Of course my mind jumps to when did he start to see her? If he is already introducing her to his son he must be serious. He must have been seeing her for quite some time. Maybe that is why we were having such a difficult time of things for the last year.
I muttered that I thought he had been seeing someone and he said, I knew you did. I asked the question. As hard as it was, I needed to know.
"Did you start seeing her before we broke up?"
"No. It's not serious, it's really just to get over us."
I guess that last comment was meant to make me feel better.
Not sure what his date for our "breakup" would be. I know for me it wasn't officially over until this phone call, but I realize that for him, it could have been when I was staying with my dying mother, or maybe just after she passed and I wasn't available every weekend, I'm not really sure but it doesn't matter, it's over.
And so another new beginning.
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