Wednesday, 17 July 2019

Starting Over

I suppose I'm incredibly lucky that I have a wonderful supportive group of people around me, my best friend of 24 years received a call at 23:15 and 45 minutes later she was at the door step. She stayed up with me all night as I sobbed and snotted in her marital bed (her husband was not home). I stayed at my best friends house for 2 nights before she came back to the house with me to help me pack away my life.
My parents, my amazing parents, hired a van and drove 3 hours to move me into their spare room, understanding without question that I could not stay in that house. The house we had made our home. Props to anyone who remains living with an ex but I know that for me that was not an option. There would be no way that I could live along side him but not with him.
While I know that coming away from the place we called home was the right thing to do, reality hits me every now and again that I have left. I called and quit my job with immediate effect the following day.
I feel incredibly conflicted and all together lost, the future I had planned and had never considered would alter has been taken away from me. Completely ripped from under my feet and it's like I'm stood in front of a vast open space with no idea where I'm going from here. Everyone is being so supportive, telling me the world is my oyster and I can do whatever I want; only that is so overwhelming to me. It's petrifying.
Part of me is worried about finding a job and committing to something up here in case he comes home and wants to try again. I know that simply isn't going to happen, I know him well enough to know that he isn't someone to go back on a decision. He'd live the rest of his life convincing himself everyday it was the right thing to do even if every other fiber of his being told him it was wrong. Maybe we were too different in that sense. Because I trust my gut, in everything, I knew that night was the end, and so I pushed the conversation until he admitted he wanted to break up. Maybe I should have left it, and maybe once he got home from his work trip things would be different. Or maybe he would have come back with the same conclusion. I said it to him the night we broke up I think he signed out of the relationship before he spoke to me about it. I think he had been convincing himself that he was making an effort to work on the relationship but in reality he wasn't doing anything. I had been putting me all into him, into us and he was barely meeting me half way.
Which I know I deserve more than, I know that I deserve someone who loves me as much as I love them, but that doesn't mean I don't wish he loved me that much. I'm allowed to wish that he wanted me and much and I want him.
I am under no illusion that we had a perfect relationship, both of us should have put more effort in, I will forever wish I spent less time on my phone like he told me 10000 times but I know I made the effort, I know that I did everything that I could. I was grateful everyday that I got to call him mine, and I was that loser at work who took every opportunity to tell everyone about my boyfriend and how lucky I was to have him. How I believed we were meant to be together.
Who goes out with a guy at 18 for a couple of months then bumps into him 9 years later? Both randomly living in the same city? He made everything make sense, it felt like it was fate, or destiny or just the universe, whatever way you looked at it, whatever you believed it, it was meant to be. We always said 'right person, wrong time' and I still believe that's the case, maybe he just hasn't realised it yet, maybe he needs a little bit longer. Maybe I'm ready for forever but he's not yet. Maybe he's mine but I'm not his.
It's hard to start a new chapter when the last one doesn't feel finished to you. 

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