Stupid Universe

In moving forward, I need to deal with the past.

Come on my journey. Forgive my posts, split into past and present. I hope you can hang in there.

January 2012

Him and I often joked about the “Universe” … about her wicked sense of humor. Over the years we took turns trying to be brave … trying to move on without each other, failing time and time again. Fate, kismet, destiny … whatever you want to call it, we were thrown curve balls of the highest order.

Maybe the “Universe” is just perverse and cruel.

4 weeks after our first indiscretion we were thrown together again. I was terrified to face him. I was mortally embarrassed about our drunken escapade and was sure he would be too. As I prepared to face him, he called to chat before our public meeting. He arranged to come to my room and I braced myself for the lecture. ‘That can never happen again …”

He entered the room … an impressive presence; tall, handsome but vulnerable. His heart thumped in his chest. I could see it and feel it. Wow. His world was every bit as rocked as mine. No lecture forthcoming (though he told me later it had been his intention), instead he held me and kissed me tenderly. I belonged to him from that moment forward.

Knowing what I know now, would I have made different choices? Would I have forgone the chance of experiencing such a BIG love as a trade off to escaping the endless, gut wrenching, filthy pain that has enveloped my mind, my body and my soul?

Usually my answer is no. But there are days when I wonder if blissful ignorance would have been kinder. Maybe I should have been allowed to stumble through my life comfortably numb.

Stupid Universe.

Stop the Crazy

13 weeks of unpredictable, judgmental, fucked up crap since my first blog.

No different to the last three years, my roller coaster continues and I am left wondering when the crazy will stop. If the crazy will stop.

I walked past an elderly woman on my way to the store today. She had a little dog bundled in her arms. There was no evidence she lived alone and regardless, probably leads a perfectly contented existence. However, my messed up mind couldn’t help pigeon-holing her: lonely dog lady, no one to share her life with, just a pooch for comfort. I don’t want this for me. I don’t.

What were my sliding doors?

I fell pregnant and married rebound man, who I barely knew. We struggled from the beginning and I knew that had it not been for the growing child within me, I would never have stayed. I’m glad I did. I helped bring three beautiful souls into the world. My price? Living in a loveless marriage, constantly questioning why.

Four years ago my life hit a wall; in the space of a few short months I resuscitated a stranger who had suffered cardiac arrest on a busy city pavement, I said goodbye to my best friend who died of breast cancer, and I almost lost both my parents. I received no support from my husband, emotional or otherwise. Three months later, I found myself at work, away from home, tired, emotional and drunk. It was my birthday. I was sad. I found myself in bed with a long-term colleague.

Not my style.


I was a faithful old sock. Until Him.

Three days later I ended my marriage. Not for Him, for me.

Life had slipped from my hands that year … and I had also held it in my hands on that city pavement … but really I had been ‘walking dead’, and for the first time in almost two decades I felt something stir in my heart and soul and I knew I could not live a lie a moment longer.

What about Him?

We were both hit by a freight train that day. Almost 3 and a half years later we are still reeling. I hope I find my feet this year.

1 week today

I created my blog last year and following several attempts to publish something … here it is.

Not a lot.


I write when my pain overwhelms me … and yet seeing my words in front of me makes it all too real; so … I backspace, delete, remove, make invisible.

Three years ago, my world was rocked. I have not recovered.

MM is all of the clichés. My soulmate. The love of my life. My world. But not mine.

It seems I have spent most of the last three years trying to end my relationship with MM … or he with me. We have both failed miserably.

Today, however, marks 1 week of no contact. There have been no texts, no calls, no emails, no Facebook messages. Zero.

How many times have I checked my phone, willing a message to appear? How many times have I replayed old voice messages? How many hours have I wasted reading our old text conversations?

There should be a pill called ‘no more grief’.

… I stole that line. He told me that last April … another time when we tried to ‘do’ without each other.  Will I have the strength to ‘do’ without him this time? I have to. I simply cannot be insignificant any longer.