The thing I miss about my inappropriate fling with The Plumber is that head-spinning, cartwheel-turning, Yay-Abba’s-playing-on-the-dance-floor! feeling of being alive. That, and the ping of the texts, which signalled that there was a man out there thinking about me.
For the short time we were together each week, there was no death, no sadness, no past, no future – just the moment. And I allowed myself to get caught up in it. I pushed thoughts of M out and focussed on the tattooed chest before me. And since the current focal point of my life is death, I’ll admit it was irresistible.
Of course, as soon as he walked out the door the self-loathing kicked back in, but it was worth it for that moment of emotional and physical reprieve.
My counsellor talks about ‘safety behaviours’ – the tactics we employ to preserve our sanity in times of trial. The Plumber was one such behaviour, despite being (paradoxically) unsafe. Wine, I suppose, is another. Not talking about M is another, which is why writing about Him is my salvation. All emotional fire curtains.
What will happen when the fire curtains lift though? They are threadbare as it is, but what theatre will their removal reveal?
Shit. Anyone know any builders?
4 thoughts on “Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! (A Man After Midnight)”
I wonder how I can possibly empathise when thank God this has never happened to me but my stomach knotted when I read of the raw pain in this blog. It is honest open and exposing surely the scar tissue will come one day and hopefully begin to heal but also always be there for ever as a part of you
I am sure I would not have coped so well and to bring up a babe to remember her Daddy with so much love
Enjoy the wine and the builders and why not!!!
Thanks Lulu, your message made me tearful. X
Gosh you make me laugh and there is nothing I need more than to be reminded that I can laugh (after my husband died suddenly 3 years ago I thought for awhile I never would). Thank you for your frankness it seems sometimes people expect us to become nuns after losing someone. I hope one day to find an electrician, a tiler and a carpenter….frankly at this point I’m not fussy.
Hey Sally! Glad to raise a laugh. Humour gets me through it, gallows mainly 🙂 I’m wishing for a burly workman for you my lovely! All love and good wishes. XX