Warning, this post will be bought to you by the letters E, M, and O. I know, I'm too old, and it's unbecoming. Like whatevs....
I've been ill. This always makes me sad. I started a migraine on Sunday morning. Not unusual. It tends to be my body's way of keeping me sane. When things get too hectic I get felled by migraine, it makes me stop. This one didn't respond to any drugs, rest, darkness, coffee, bathing in lavender, nothing. It got worse, and worse, until yesterday morning I was convinced that my only choices were death or insanity. I phoned my lovely Dr in floods of tears, and babbling incoherence. The lovely man, ( I have a big old crush on my Dr,I'm now somewhat mortified that he's now seen me with vomit in my hair), gave me an injection which made it all go away. I don't know what it was, I'm assuming it was some kind of morphine thing, but to be honest, at the time he could have recommended that I go out and score crack and I wouldn't have blinked. Blinking really bloody hurt. So, today I'm pain free, but groggy, and blue.
On Saturday I told Alpha Girl that I'm leaving. A is The Bounder's daughter, and right now she's the person I love most in the entire world. Certainly she is the only person that I'd consider staying down here for. Because she is 48 different sorts of awesome she is really happy for me, recognises that it is the most amazing opportunity, and is looking forward to coming and visiting. I'm just so flattered that this incredible, cool, kind, beautiful girl wants to hang out with me. To compound my position as world's most responsible adult we went to see Russell Kane. In between laughing like a loon on loon pills I was deeply conflicted. Torn between thinking, " Lord I've bought her to see a man talking about his fear that a naked glamour model is going to try and put a non lubed champagne bottle up his bottom, I'm an appalling human being", and, " meh, she hears worse at school, I'm sure". Suffice to say she loved it. Her first words to me on the whole thing were, " I Love Him". There you go, my child, that is my gift to you, a lifelong tendresse for slightly wrong boys in eye-liner. I hope it serves you as well as it has me.
Today Miss Mimsy went to live with The Bounder. I can only thank the heavens that I was still probably a bit mashed on morphine or I don't think that I could have borne it. The thing that made me most sad was the realisation that this was just the first of the many goodbyes I'm going to have to say in the next three weeks. Whilst I'm ridiculously excited about my big, ginormous adventure I am leaving behind pretty much everybody I love and hold dear. Although, rationally I know this to be stupid, I was struck with the idea that now he has the kitten, The Bounder has no further need to come see me. The idea that the last time he saw me I was stoned and weeping is upsetting. An unkind person would point out that this would be oddly apposite. My fourteen year marriage ended four months ago. Obviously I won't have come close to processing how I feel about it all. Still, I was surprised by how upset I was by the idea that this might be the final meeting. It's not, really, really, not, that I think that there's anything marriage shaped to be salvaged. I wouldn't want to, towards the end we were properly misery making. It's just all the memories, where do they go, what happens to them ? There was love, y'know, in spite of all my jokes about moustache wax, intemperance, and the housekeeping being spent on coke and hookers, I did love him. I think that it's the idea that the person who knows me better than anyone is no longer an essential part of my day to day life. I've been thinking about the short hand which long established couples slip into, the easy familiarity, the sentences which only needed half starting. The Bounder is the only person alive who knows what I mean when I say, "Eleanor Rigby", who knows why certain episodes of The Simpson's make me cry like a baby, and who knows what effect the opening bars of "Like A Hurricane" have on me. For illustrative purposes, here is a text exchange between us from earlier today. Bounder, " A bit of cat chess, but no kitfriction yet. Ver rocitous methinks" Me, " Von Tocitous, good lass". Spell check, and all right minded folk will be baffled, but to us it makes perfect sense, and the fact that one day soon it won't makes me a bit sad.
I do know that I'm concentrating on the good bits. There were lots of bad bits too. It had become all about what was unsaid, the awkward silences, the having to make an effort, when previously it had been so easy. I clearly remember wishing that The Bounder would live up to his name and have a proper, public, shaming affair, so that I'd have a reason to leave him. I am happier now. I wake up in the mornings and I have stuff, both tiny and seemingly inconsequential, and enormous and life changing to look forward to. Sometimes, all this change is just so massive and exciting that it, literally, takes my breath away, it makes me gasp, and hop up and down squealing like a simpleton. I catch myself smiling like an idiot when I think nobody is looking. I am so grateful, and happy, and excited, but that doesn't mean that I'm not the teensiest bit blue too.
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