Today is my unniversary. That is, it is the anniversary of the day I first got married – but seeing as we have been divorced for year, it isn’t really an anniversary.
However, it is NINETEEN YEARS since the day I first got married, and this in itself is something worth noting, as that means it is literally half my lifetime ago (yes, i really am that old).
When I think of my first 19 years, the last 19 seem to have dragged by in comparison. or maybe it’s just that so much has happened – after all, I’ve spent 11 of them as a mother, which isn’t exactly easy going. I have got married twice and divorced twice, and spent longer with The Man than I spent with either of my husbands. Oh yes, and I actually properly love him an’ all – although I try not to admit that to his face.
I have had my annoying cat for OVER half my life. actually, the post I linked there is one of the most read on my blog for some reason. people keep searching on ‘London cat lady’ which worries me. and I love that photo of her
In another 19 years I’ll be 57 and that seems REALLY old – although younger than my parents are, and that doesn’t particularly seem to be that old – considering they’re so childish.
I’m not sure whether it’s just because of my ongoing insomnia, but I am feeling a lot older than I am at the moment. I don’t like that – I like feeling younger than my years. I think I just need a few good night’s sleep and then I’ll be fine! Or (more likely) I need a holiday, which I haven’t had for a LONG time. I even tried looking for a holiday for the three of us next summer, and gave up because looking for a holiday was stressing me out!
Anyway – 19 years ago today, I got married. I had a proper meringue dress and a Zandra Rhodes headdress and a blue garter and a gorgeous bridesmaid and a beautiful 1932 Daimler and I sat on my bed before I left my parent’s house and asked God to forgive me for what I was about to do as I knew it was terribly wrong.
He was (and still is) a lovely guy…but he was always just too , I dunno, ‘straight’ for me. Quite proper. Good stock and all that, nice bloke, intelligent, absolutely gorgeous looking but very very ‘straight’. I was a bit too naughty and rebellious for him. Something had to give. He ironed his socks FFS!
I ended up with him because I was running away. But that is another story.
Today, I will ponder over half my life. And then hopefully I will sleep!
…can one phone call cause? Especially when the phone call wasn’t even to me!
I got home about 5.50 tonight (early!) and was busy getting The Girl’s dinner ready as she was off to Guides tonight and at about 6.10 the phone rang.
I heard The Girl pick it up, but as I was in the kitchen, I couldn’t see her, just heard her say “Hi dad”…”No, she’s not home from work yet”…”No, not usually but she may have been held up on the trains”…and then she went into her room and I couldn’t hear any more.
Just a tiny snippet of conversation but it really affected me – I had a whole range of emotions battling it out.
- Hurt: That this is the situation between me and her dad
- Guilt: That she is so aware that I hate it when I have to talk to him
- Surprise: That she would immediately do this without a second thought
- Pride: That she is emotionally mature enough to take control of the situation
- Concern: That she can lie so bloody easily!!
When she got off the phone to eat her dinner, I gave her a big hug and told her how much I loved her. She’s my baby and she cares about me, and although she can be a pain in the arse occasionally, she generally a really good, lovely and loving girl. I hope I’ll be as nice as her when I grow up
…what is love anyway? well, what is the deal with relationships, anyway.
I know that I have a lot of friends who think that I’m unromantic etc because of my attitude to Valentine’s Day and the such like.
I don’t think that this is true, as I said in my post, because I think that romance is a far more personal and thoughtful thing.
However, I know that I have another attitude to love and relationships that also doesn’t seem to be regarded as ‘normal’. In fact, even though The Man knows my feelings, when we were chatting yesterday, he got into a major sulk about it (you have to remember he’s a great big strapping, brusque, scathing Northern lad, so his flounces, sulks and general sappiness always amuse me).
So, what is it that upsets him so much? Given the choice, I would always prefer to be single than in a relationship.
He seems to take that personally, and I can’t actually get him to see that he should take it as a compliment. Next month I will have been with him for 6 years, and that’s my longest relationship ever, and yet still he takes it as a personal insult!
I find being single far easier, and far freer. I generally feel more in control of my life when I’m single. I also don’t feel that I NEED to be in a relationship., and I have never believed that any relationship is ‘forever’. Yes, I know getting married twice seems to contradict that, but then, I’ve been divorced twice too – so obviously I was right.
I’ve only ever ‘been in love’ twice (and that was neither of my hubbies), and apart from them (one of which is The Man, you’ll be pleased to know), I have always had A Reason to be with the person I’m with. I don’t have A Reason to be with The Man (in fact there’s probably loads of reasons why I shouldn’t be with him, lol). I choose to be with him because I love him.
He says I run away too easily, because I get out of relationships…he was in a passionless marriage for many many years. I know which one I think is worse.
I know that I am in the nearest you get to a perfect relationship. I know I am bloody lucky. But I’m not going to kid myself that it will last ’til death us do part’ – who knows what’s around the corner? If the love/passion fades, then I will not see the point in hanging about, just co-existing. And that is my point, I’d rather be single (and don’t think being single means being celibate – it totally doesn’t!!).
So surely he should feel really really happy that they are my feelings and I’m with him, rather than seeing it as a reason to sulk and call me a commitophobe!