Printed from WriteWords - http://www.writewords.org.uk/archive/3545.asp

Untitled

by  literati

Posted: Friday, February 27, 2004
Word Count: 756
Summary: These are disparate extracts, tiny fragments of a 30,000 word picture.




Today the grief is overwhelming, but there isn't any anger. however, there may be a tiny bit of acceptance. The slippery slope, I'm nearly at the bottom. I didn't want to be, I definitely did not want to be. I wonder if ex sig. other has similar feelings. I think so. I wonder what is preventing them from contacting me. Must be somebody else. I don't think I need to torture myself any more about this. The whole seven year relationship was tortuous, although I miss her like crazy. I'm glad she's in the distance. Surely after all these weeks of no contact it will get easier. I don't know. I went for ten months last time, it was different then. This time it seems final. Just a feeling. The no contact feeling. Keep telling myself it is for the best. I know it. To resume will just make me so unhappy again. I don't want that. Yes I feel lonely, but at least I'm not in emotional turmoil. I don't ever want to be like that again. It was so painful. So much rejection, just like mummy's. Bizarre parallels but I really feel it. I am well out of it. Just keep saying that to myself. Strange though, could cry like a baby. Quite easily, especially when I see a happy couple. Did I say that happiness is transient like sex. I think true happiness is from within, and only after that can you feel it with others. How many of us are happy with ourselves? Stand up and be counted. Just as I thought nobody. My relationship with my mother took a different route. Firstly, when she asked me to spell a word she could not, when I was five years old, and secondly, when she bought me an iron and ironing board for a very young birthday. The iron had wire going from its base, connected to a rubber suction pad. Even I could see, when the bloody iron did not heat up, that I had been conned. I remember being frantic with impotent rage. Thirdly, my mum said that if I put a dolly mixture in my dolls mouth-doll was lying down in the pram-that when I came back from doing other things, my doll would have eaten it. Which of course I believed totally. It was only much later that I realised, that mum had eaten it. I was so trusting, but then you are at four years old aren't you? I never saw her in the same light again, although I loved her dearly, in fact pedestalised her all my life. Unfortunately she died when I was thirteen years old, prematurely and suddenly. I've never been the same since, and will probably spend the rest of my life, looking for a substitute. Which is extremely difficult I suppose. I really do not know what I am looking for. I know she was beautiful and delicate and feminine, and possessed a good figure. That's the physicality. As for the emotionality what do I know? I've since found out she was no nonsense. and liked a fun time. I'm running out of people to fill in the picture. She had balls I think, but she did reject us, me and my sister. I'm sure she had excellent reasons, but it still hurts. Surely you keep hold of your kids whatever don't you, when they are tiny especially. How could she let us go? I'm sure she had a good reason. I can't believe anything else can I? I cannot believe the ultimate rejection, that would be mind blowing. I'm sure that somebody who was asked to spell a word at five years by a parent must be well thought of. Perhaps I was one of those clever dicks, whose parent thought they were capable and strong and mentally robust. What a joke. Still that's life. I can't remember any other occasions of us together, apart from a far away look in her eyes, quite frequently, when I was a teenager. I cannot remember any other reactions from her about anything. Maybe I'll have to think harder.

Grief is still catching me like a bronchitic breath. Just as fleeting, just as life threatening. It encircles the body in the same way, and whilst the breath oxygenates, the grief permeates. And when the breath decarbonises, the grief deactivates. I will need breath for an infinite period of time. I hope this grief is finite. However, it seems to be getting worse instead of better.