Blogging is Good For My Health

I’ve been back for a few days now but too depressed to write. Couldn’t think of anything to say except how lousy I feel right now and how well….. how lousy I felt…and where’s the fun in that?…

But then I remembered that this is the point of the blog. I can write anything here that I want. He won’t see it! And if He did, I probably wouldn’t know. And if I do know, I refuse to care.

Blogging is Officially Good For Me.

I can get things off my chest, express my fears,
Moan and groan, offload, chew things over,
I can make plans, confess secrets, talk about my hopes for the future.
And I can laugh.

It’s a hell of a lot cheaper than the £80.00 an hour therapy session He thought I should try.

What a cheek. Believe me, He needs it more.

In case you’re looking for an update -on Him- ….I can’t give you one. I have no idea where he is or what he’s doing, and I don’t care.

In fact, until I imagined you to be asking, I hadn’t even given him a thought.

Well, ok. Maybe only a tiny one. It’s just that I’d like to go back and get my earring and I need to figure out how and when. I don’t want to have to see Him, so I’ll have to be creative.

While I was at Celia’s, I went to see an old friend of my mother’s. His name’s Robert and he’s about 84 now. He lives in a tiny little cottage overlooking the sea, he’s lived there all his life as far as I know. His memory’s going a bit now and he kept getting me confused with my mother.
Not that I minded.
She once told me that Robert had rather fancied his chances with her, and almost proposed. They met during the war, and when it was over he came to see her and sort of hinted at marriage. My mother had to tell him- gently- that she’s just got engaged to my father. But they kept in touch and stayed friends, and it was always rather sweet.

I noticed a picture of him on the piano- him in his soldier's uniform.. looking proud, all handsome and serious. Then I saw the woman just to the left of him, slightly behind as if hiding from the camera. It was my mother in her Wren's uniform, smiling shyly at him. Her hand nestled in his elbow. Taken during the war I suppose, maybe he brought her home on leave, to meet his family. They did those things, back then.

The thing is, he never married. I don’t know if it was because he’d only loved my mother, or whether he’d just never found anyone else; but he seemed quite sad about it. It suddenly struck me how lonely he seemed now, and that got me all upset.


Is this was I’m destined for? Having been chucked away, like a piece of garbage; am I going to spend the rest of my life alone and lonely?

Then I told myself not to be so bloody stupid, and felt a bit guilty. How could I possibly compare Robert’s 64 years of being alone with my few weeks?

PERSPECTIVE- girl- PERSPECTIVE!

Keep it, and use it, don't lose it- that’s what I say.