Well, more an opportunity to exact some cold revenge on my ex partner. Up until recently, I have been forgiving of his absence in my child’s life. He is not the father, but for the best part of 6 years, and up until 18 months ago he took on this role to my, now 16 year old, son. Not a text, despite J sending him messages re Arsenal wins and the ilk.
My softness was, in part, due to a general sense of guilt for pushing for separation. The relationship had been dead in the water for months, if not years. Several trips were made to counselling, where I came across as a hectoring, high maintenance biatch. He was glum, silent and world weary. At the end of session 6 the counsellor had given up. She advised us not to waste any more money, but perhaps come back, if we managed to overcome the impasse.
Anyhow, I still loved him. I hoped we could still be friends. No one else was involved. No one had behaved badly. It was just terribly sad that the intimate nature our relationship had died. The resentment and dissatisfaction that replaced it was becoming hard to ignore. Unfortunately, he clearly felt being in this toxic situation was preferable to singledom. We went our separate ways.
Fastforward to 23rd May. With tears popping out, rather than rolling down, I inform him of my diagnosis. Given the circumstances, and my uncertain future, there would be no better time for him to reconnect with my son…Silence.
For the revenge bit, you will have to wait, cos I’m about to go out for a little walk with my bro. Don’t want to lose all my typing so I’m posting this now.
To resume the story, part of the practical arrangements of the split involved us divvying up our belongings. Luckily, this was relatively straightforward. That is, apart from all the cd’s and dvd’s, and a pair of hair clippers, the property of my ex husband (another story worthy of telling). My guilt didn’t allow me to dwell on my lost belongings, my beloved music collection and the clippers, that held fond memories of my ex.
Fastforward to today. I am on day 13 of chemo. If anyone wants to know why I won’t be keeping my hair, all is explained in a post in July Junkies from last weekend sometime. I want those bloody clippers, and I have texted, telling him so. If they don’t turn up I will take some form of action, I’m just not sure how or what. Any ideas anyone?