Every time I have tried numerous times to continue this
story and keep finding myself not only choking on my own tears and tripping
words on top of one another but also experiencing very violent and acute
nausea.
I am dying to get everything out of my head and my heart
but there is still so much to say and for some odd reason I feel like I have run
out of time to say it without actually knowing why. So much has happened, so
much hasn’t happened and where things have changed a lot of things have just
remained the same and stagnant.
Just to give an idea of how far this story still has to go,
let me just say that as of the last post made in August we were still firmly in
September/October of the previous year. I have never hidden the fact that I am writing
in retrospect, a lot of things will become clear as I write more as
to why there has been such a huge pause in instalments and also why it is becoming heavier and heavier. As has become my nature
I can’t apologise enough for the forced diet imposed upon you my esteemed
reader, so I shan’t insult your intelligence or patronage by apologising as
there are so many factors that minimise the value of that apology.
All I'll say is that I'm going to try harder.
Back to Nemesis…
Clearly this man was talking shit out of the webs between
his toe-digits. It didn’t matter at all to me what he was saying, in spite of
all the hogwash he was churning I decided to keep listening as his voice was
one that lulled me to sleep and was soothing to me. After a round and round conversation
that ended well into the night I just packed the towel in and decided to do a
balanced assessment of the situation with myself.
Was I being had here: YES!
The only questions that remained were to what degree and to
achieve what end. After those came the need to find out from myself if I was in
a position to be continuing to be exposed to what was clearly bullshit and also
for the achievement of what end. As the sun rose the next day I woke up with
gratitude for the simple blessings of being alive, having my child by my side
and actually knowing what I wanted to wear to work that day. I also had a sack full
of resolve as to how to handle the elusive truth as regards the smooth, suave Nemesis
I had moved into a new house at some stage and was settled
there quite well. My daughter was ok too in spite of the cultural adjustment of
living with a family that has its own weird ways of doing things. To say it
wasn’t always comfortable would be the understatement of the century. So consequently
we ended up spending a lot of time at my friend’s house which was just next
door to where I stayed.
Having categorically refused to engage in any coitus, see Nemesis
or speak with him on the phone for the better part of a week it was very clear
to all involved that the thunder clouds had fully descended in paradise. I had
gone next door for supper one day when he phoned repeatedly at around sunset
insisting that he needed to see me and give me my favourite pasta meal that he
had made for me. And to discuss the idea he had been mulling about us going
away for the Christmas holidays.
Not only had I not asked for this meal but I just
did not want to be seen or get pushed into a corner where I will fail to say
what I need to say because I have been disarmed by a kind gesture.
I’ve never been one for seeking permission from anyone as
to how they feel I should conduct my life; I pretty much do what I want
whenever it suits me to do just that. I do not owe anyone any explanations as
to how or why things occur or what my ultimate game plan is. I gave my assent for
him to come through for a few minutes but as I was a guest in someone’s house I
would not entertain him for long. So in
my pyjama pants, loose T-shirt and funky bedroom slippers I waddled to the gate
and got into his car.
He proffered a kiss which I graciously extended a cheek
towards. That threw him off completely as he was accustomed to a full on mouth
to mouth assault. I asked him to drive around a bit and got through the
perfunctory questions about how his day at work was , how his week has been and
so on. in no time at all we were back at the gate . As I pushed the door open with my pasta in hand he heaved a laborious breath and asked
me what was going on with me and why I have been offish. I wasted no time in
giving a shock response
“I am
not a home wrecker. I want out!”
None of his explanations were making any sense whatsoever
to me and I just put all the elements I had before me together and that was my
conclusion- he is married, partnered, committed elsewhere or married.
He could wipe the look of total shock and despondence off
his face because there was nothing that could be said right now. I had evidence…
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