Life has a strange habit of unravelling in front of me on a regular basis. I tend to get to a stage where I think this is it I have made it! ... and then out of the blue, with no warning and certainly with no preparation I find myself picking myself up, dusting myself down and confusingly asking myself "what the hell happened there?".
You see the funny thing about life (and I use the word funny very loosely) is that there is very little in life that you can actually count on. I mean who ever thought we would not be able to fly due to volcanic ash? Or that Princess Diana and Prince Charles would divorce? Or that the Cosby show would ever end? Or that I would be turning 33 and find myself single, living on my own in Jersey with two new kittens who my counsellor even described rather worryingly as "my family!". Don't get me wrong I love the new additions to my flat but to be honest even in my most deluded moments of speaking to them lovingly or cradling them like a baby when one fell down the toilet I never really believe them to be my children. I am not having to worry about leaving them on their own for fear the social services will find out nor am I planning on sending them to university... although mensa is a possibility for both of them!
And so life has thrown me another unexpected twist and I don't like it but somehow i'm living it. It's not what i planned nor is it what I expected but as the kittens fight with each other and my pyjama bottoms I can only think to myself maybe it's ok for now or at least until the next twist...
Tuesday 18 May 2010
Sunday 24 January 2010
And so he left....
And so he left. And as I watched him pull away I wondered can he hear the sound of my heart shattering? It rang in my ears as though the whole of the window and glass door had smashed into tiny pieces.
It was not the first time he left me. It was not the first time anyone had left me. But that moment... that moment in time I realised one thing and that was that I never seemed to have the ability of keeping anyone by my side. Boyfriends, parents, siblings or friends all grew tired.
Why does it come so easy for people to leave? Why do I always seem to be rearranging my flat to make it look like they were never there? Why when I spend so much of my time alone and so much of it loving people do I find myself lonely and without love?
As I lay in bed each night wondering how to win back those I have lost I realise they are spending their time trying to get rid of me or not even noticing that I'm gone. I do all the tricks. I beg, they say i'm selfish. I cry, they say "I hate to hear you cry. stop crying. i've got to go.." I get angry, threaten to never let them back into my life again ("great that is what I want")... "It's not all about you Clare." But it is you see. In my life it is about me. In my life I'm stuck with me and whilst the rest of you are leaving I'm stuck here with the one person I can't get away from .... me.
It is like the times in life you find yourself in a room with someone that you have nothing in common with and everyone has left. You look to the door. You need to escape. You start fiddling with your phone so you seem busy and don't have the pain of starting the conversation you dread. You pray silently "please don't say anything..." and then you hear it. Either that unfunny uncomfortable joke or question that seems too pointless to answer. But you are stuck and know you can't be rude and leave. You have to stay and make small talk but you feel like it's torture and long for someone else to enter the room so you can make your apologies and leave them to suffer the pain of this hopeless conversation. The difference is I'm left in the room with the one person I don't want to be with and the one person that everyone is trying to avoid getting stuck with... me.
And so he left... and as i cried and begged and hoped he'd change his mind and tried to make sense of how things had changed and how I didn't realise that the day he left and that picture of him waving in the window of the taxi would be the last day i would feel his love... perhaps he breathed a sigh of relief as he pulled away or perhaps he chuckled to himself "pathetic girl".... it still felt the same to me and I still hoped that he had half of the love I had for him. It still felt I had lost my heart and I knew one thing. I would never feel quite the same again about anything. Because this time... this time.... there was very little left of me to hold on to....
It was not the first time he left me. It was not the first time anyone had left me. But that moment... that moment in time I realised one thing and that was that I never seemed to have the ability of keeping anyone by my side. Boyfriends, parents, siblings or friends all grew tired.
Why does it come so easy for people to leave? Why do I always seem to be rearranging my flat to make it look like they were never there? Why when I spend so much of my time alone and so much of it loving people do I find myself lonely and without love?
As I lay in bed each night wondering how to win back those I have lost I realise they are spending their time trying to get rid of me or not even noticing that I'm gone. I do all the tricks. I beg, they say i'm selfish. I cry, they say "I hate to hear you cry. stop crying. i've got to go.." I get angry, threaten to never let them back into my life again ("great that is what I want")... "It's not all about you Clare." But it is you see. In my life it is about me. In my life I'm stuck with me and whilst the rest of you are leaving I'm stuck here with the one person I can't get away from .... me.
It is like the times in life you find yourself in a room with someone that you have nothing in common with and everyone has left. You look to the door. You need to escape. You start fiddling with your phone so you seem busy and don't have the pain of starting the conversation you dread. You pray silently "please don't say anything..." and then you hear it. Either that unfunny uncomfortable joke or question that seems too pointless to answer. But you are stuck and know you can't be rude and leave. You have to stay and make small talk but you feel like it's torture and long for someone else to enter the room so you can make your apologies and leave them to suffer the pain of this hopeless conversation. The difference is I'm left in the room with the one person I don't want to be with and the one person that everyone is trying to avoid getting stuck with... me.
And so he left... and as i cried and begged and hoped he'd change his mind and tried to make sense of how things had changed and how I didn't realise that the day he left and that picture of him waving in the window of the taxi would be the last day i would feel his love... perhaps he breathed a sigh of relief as he pulled away or perhaps he chuckled to himself "pathetic girl".... it still felt the same to me and I still hoped that he had half of the love I had for him. It still felt I had lost my heart and I knew one thing. I would never feel quite the same again about anything. Because this time... this time.... there was very little left of me to hold on to....
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