I wrote a letter…

Dear,

I thought, at 35 years old, especially when it comes to relationships, that I’d experienced almost everything. And this is nothing to be proud of, but my thinking was…I could handle most of what life throws at me.

When I received the email via Facebook…basically telling me that you had been having an affair…that started on your Stag Do, I realised that I actually don’t know anything about love or relationships; and that you can never put your trust in anything other than God.

I’m confused that you still don’t have a reason for the lying and cheating, especially when you say that you still love me and would want us to still be together? Even more confusing is that it felt as if you were really committing you life to God, and genuinely felt God in your life.

I don’t know what’s going on in your heart – and part of me feels maybe you were being attacked…and failed. I don’t know – but what you’ve done is unforgivable. But, it’s not that I hate you…I hate what you’ve done to something that felt so good, and amazing.

I’m still with fellowship group – and glad you still see R and M – they’ve never mentioned that they see you. And I’m grateful for that. I feel lucky that I have a beautiful network of friends and family who have helped me immensely….i don’t know if I would have got through this without them

The job? Is amazing…seems strange that when I was at XXPR, it was my lifeline, and now I’m here. The people are amazing, the culture is so Christ focussed. We pray/have a devotional in the mornings and praise & worship every Friday lunch time.

The work is challenging, I’m learning so much, and immersing myself in news, entertainment and public affairs…

They have a counselling arm here, Lifeline…I’ve seen one of the ladies there. Again…XX has been my lifeline…

Anyway – we have a lot to sort out now….and no, i haven’t found anywhere to live yet.

I have to be out of the flat by 3rd March.

Will your Uncle be around to help more the heavy furniture? Worst-case scenario, I was thinking of getting storage – so can always dump stuff there.

I won’t need the sofa; probably won’t need the fridge. I really don’t know what to take tbh – and would only want what I need/can fit in wherever I’m going. I really want to ask for the TV for mum and dad really – and would give ££ towards it? Theirs is going…they don’t even get sound through there’s properly now. Wherever I go, I’m sure I’ll be ok with the little one.

‘Keep Your Distance’

I woke up this morning with remnants of my dream echoing around my room. One of my new work colleagues talking about me to another, “Keep your distance…” Whispers…glances that judged me..

Fiction, a dream…but obviously something that’s been playing on my mind. I didn’t feel angry or indignant, because deep down, I know people should be keeping their distance. At least for a while anyway. It should be this way. I’m praying for it to be this way.

I can’t bear to put some of the things I’ve done in the last couple of months into Arial 11pt. And part of me questions, why, if I’m committing myself (throwing myself) into God’s hands, why it’s panned out this way? There’s a
nudging, insane part of me that feels i’m being torn…that I’m being tested (?) that satan is playing with me…and, yes, I feel so very vulnerable; and there’s no one to watch over me anymore.

By the same token, I’m playing too. And I do like playing. I actually can’t physically hurt anymore, so whoever it is that decides to ‘date’ actually puts themselves in jeopardy. It’s in my saner moments that i feel guilty.

When my lips are numb, from too much Merlot…i often look around and realise I’m on my own.

Through Different Eyes

I’ve just had to take a long hard look at myself. And it’s awful.

Friends tell me that what i am doing is normal; that is going out, drinking too much wine and going on ‘dates’ is not a bad thing. But…and BUT…this evening it all came crashing down around my ears. I sobbed on the train home from Watford. I cried when i got in the flat…and i think i cried myself to sleep.

I met an old friend for dinner in Watford this evening. He’s expecting a baby, which is unplanned, but i got a sense of expectation and excitment from him.

Then, on the way home i received a call that made me stop and take a look at myself. I’d planned to meet up on ‘dates’ during the week, and on Sunday. But, my ‘dating’, revelry or whatever i want to call it is such a bad idea. It doesn’t matter how much i go out, or drink, the problem is still here when i put the glass down. In fact, it’s unfair on whoever it is i’m making ‘friends’ with, i’m a drunken mess. So, i’m dumped (again), and straight after i call the other ‘friend’ to cancel our dinner on Sunday.

When i finally got home i remembered the ‘Liar and Cheat’ had been in to pick up some things. What he’d picked up? I still don’t really know. But he’s left me a DVD he thought i’d like, and a text message to say how much he still loves me?!

I’m not ok. I’m really not.

Friends Indeed

I’d often had cause to complain about my friends; some can be flaky or uncompromising. There’s one who will stay in West London, never to venture out, leaving me to trek over to see her each time. Then there’s the Christmas party where each one of them copped out because the couldn’t make the effort to get to Southfields. Oh, and let’s not mention the birthday barbeque party at mum’s, again, too far south.

I probably won’t have a party again, ever…unless it’s an intimate dinner; but i’ve realised that in a time of personal crisis they will all be there. Every single one of them.

Straight away they’ve made themselves available for me to ‘lean’ on. Although i’d always reckoned on being quite strong, i’m so not. And it’s pride that stops me from cracking up. If i let go…who know’s what will happen? I sometimes feel i’d melt into a puddle of goo like the Senator Kelly in X-Men 2.

They all have an opinion on him, of course. Although most are totally gobsmacked when they first find out. Once the shock passes, most want to either stab him or punch him. I might start a poll, and see which is the most popular form of retribution.

I still pity him, and have prayed for him everyday. I hope he takes my advice and does truely see a counsellor.

Maybe we just have to face the fact as women; that it’s in a man’s makeup to cheat? They just can’t be monogamous? But i know deep down, that there are men out that, who’re not even Christians, that are faithful to their wives/partners and who love them ‘to the exclusion of all others..’

This has me thinking; if he’s been seeing her for over six months, (half a year!), then he must have an emotional attachment to her. And what’s worse? Emotional or physical cheating?

Train Ride

I learned today that it’s always worth waiting a little longer for the fast train. I was planning to be in work on time today, as we have a meeting. I left much earlier, and even had an extra minute or so to take the recyclable rubbish down to the bins.

At the station i was pleased to see the next train was due in four minutes…and jumped straight on. It was the slow train though; the one that stops at every station, and even worse, there were delays. At Clapham Junction i watched as the fast train, which would have got into Surbiton around 15 minutes after the one i was on, sailed past me.

Every Day with Jesus was on Proverbs 2:1-11, and focussed on the importance of reading the bible and not dipping into it and using it for divination.

Interestingly, as i caught up with my readings Lamentations 3:22-39 was about God’s never failing compassion. V30, ‘Let him offer his cheek to one who would strike him, and let him be filled with disgrace.’

I’m meeting him tonight, to talk about it all and what our future may be now. Is God saying i can slap him? Is he saying it’s ok to be this violently angry?

This verse certainly feels like a direct word from God!

No Decisions

It was a beautiful, Godless wedding; which surprised me as i’d always thought registry offices would be dowdy and lack luster. The Old Town Hall, on Marylebone is a beautiful building. It was a bright day, albeit cold. But most importantly, it didn’t rain!

It was a drama from the start though; having planned to be at HA’s for 1pm, traffic, roadworks and everything else you could think of between South and North London impeded me, which resulted in me pulling up at hers around 2.15pm. The wedding was at 3pm!

There was poetry from John Betjemen (A Subaltern’s Love Song – Miss Joan Hunter Dunn), W H Auden (The drinking Poem?) and one other that escapes me.

At the Amadeus Centre we were treated to a champagne reception, and then a lovely dinner. There were fab speeches, with one from D herself, and her dad. It was lovely. And although i enjoyed it all….it’s all in a bit of a haze of my own misery, which i couldn’t shake. Funny how i found it easy to smile, horrified that i’d leave a stain on her day.

Then there was dancing, and i danced. It was good meeting up again with friends i hadn’t seen in a while. And making new ones. There was someone i must have talked to for most of the night. They’d also jsut split from a long term relationship. We actually laughed at what a miserable pair we made.

He texted me last night, agreeing to a face to face meeting tomorrow, and signed off asking me to take him back.

That’s what hurts the most, that he could do this; break my heart and think that i love him enough to take him back after. It’s not that i don’t love him, it’s that i have love for myself more now.

Don’t Tell The Bride

Last night was surreal as i sat and watched ‘Don’t Tell the Bride’ on BBC iPlayer last night with C. She was desperate to watch it, because it was set in Las Vegas, where she’s getting married next year.

If i say that i feel like the emotion has been gouged out of me..maybe this comes close to explaining how i feel? I actually DON’T feel. And so, i could sit and watch the wedding shenanigans, with just a mild feeling of dread messing around with my insides.

She’d brought over some dresses for me to try on for D Mc’s wedding tomorrow, and found something that looks ok.

Two bottles of wine and some Saki later, it was 1am and i fell into a dreamless sleep. I was obviously not refreshed when i woke up. But i’d slept through the night. A lame victory.

I can imagine him telling his stag friends on the night he met Tracey O’Brien, “Don’t tell the bride…” And so, at the wedding i was indeed blissfully unaware. And happy.

I was happy

I’m addicted to FaceBook at the moment, catching up on friendships…and still debating whether to repost ‘that’ picture, or remove it all together. It also crossed my mind that i could just email it to him…and make him feel bad. But, he’s obviously feeling bad already…

Or, i could make some prints of it and post one out to him every day for a year…but that’d cost me a bit. And i’m trying to save.

Or, maybe i should stick to my original promise and try to find grace.

After the All Souls lunchtime service yesterday i briefly spoke to Hugh Palmer and asked if i could make an appointment to see him. I’m not sure what’s holding me back from making it. Maybe a bit of embarrassment and failure.

I can imagine him looking in his diary, “Oh, that girl i only married five months ago is coming in to see me. Can’t even keep her husband!”

Ugh! I can’t even imagine it. Me? Divorced??

I still can’t believe it – honestly? One minute i’m fine..i can plod on. The next minute i can’t even see straight.

I just can’t believe this is happening.

My Heart is Breaking

It’s my first day back to work today.

Walking in felt really weird, mostly because i don’t want a fuss made; as this is the most likely way to get me to break down. Luckily, Dan is really cool and has just been ‘normal’. It’s the boss that’s a night mare , “come on, let me give you a big hug!”. I actually felt horrified. What? Do you want me to embarrass myself in front of everyone??

Sitting back at my desk feels a bit surreal, which may be a little because i haven’t had much sleep. I didn’t come in too late from seeing HA. It was good to get out and talk to someone over a bottle of wine. She never liked him much anyway – and what i love about her most is that she has always been totally honest about it. But even she’s shocked about it.

I had a really bad nightmare last night. I was woken up by a noise in the flat, and got out of bed to investigate…only, i could hardly move. I also couldn’t talk…let alone shout or scream. I got to the living room…and managed to croak, ‘who’s there!’…when a hand grabbed my arm from behind the door. That’s when i really woke up.

I feel much more emotional now…i sobbed when i got home last night. I sobbed in the bath this morning…and now i’m numb again. I can’t stopping going to FaceBook and looking at her picture..and then the one with him and her. I’m also wishing i hadn’t blocked him, as now i can’t see his profile. I’ve become the person i abhor; the FaceBook stalker, the sad and desperate woman…the one that cries and sobs into her cold coffee.

My Every Day with Jesus spoke to my heart this morning. It’s the fist time i’ve read it, or the bible since last Friday. It was focusing on Jeremiah 29:1-14 – ‘You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart V13. Selwyn Hughes talks about prayer and how a few words muttered in the morning, or before going to sleep is meaningless, as is just saying the Lord’s Prayer. I know God is in my heart, and knows all things…but Selwyn is right…he deserves the respect of a proper conversation from me. Selwyn points to the Creation timeline…’There was evening, then morning …the first day” (my paraphrase). I need to get on my knees and pray this evening – properly for wisdom, strength and guidance….and that my boss will stop asking if i’m ok…