Fragile

In mind and spirit at the moment.

After intending to have a nice lie-in this morning, my plans were scuppered. Little Ro went out for her birthday last night. I didn't give her plans a second thought, but this is the kind of thing my mum worries about. Mum and Dad are away in Spain until tomorrow. 

I went to bed about midnight, and dozed as Little B heard noises (i.e.; animal noises) outside, and kept breaking into wild barking, which I was heartily sick of by 2am! Around 03:15am I heard a key in the door. Ok, she said she would probably stay with friends tonight. I lay in the absolute dark stillness for almost 15 minutes, and heard nothing. Not a light flicked on, no tripping up the stairs, nothing that would give me any clues as to whether she was going to bed. I knew I'd have to go down and check that it was actually her but I didn't want to. I was afraid of what I might find. 

I crept downstairs in the dark, and after looking in all the rooms, I saw the light on under the kitchen door. And there I found her on the phone. To my parents. Who are in Spain. And it's 4am their time. She's drunk too much, had a bust up with someone, and is not going to be reasoned with. 

I think I should probably leave it at that, details wise. Suffice to say there was another hour of phone calls and crying, and then she decided to take 60 paracetamol tablets.

I called my other sister at 5am, and together we drove her to the hospital. She didn't want to go. We've done this before, lots of times unfortunately. We're lucky in that the hospital is a five minute drive. It was very peaceful at this time in the morning, with the sun brightening through the cloud. 

As is always the way, the lady on the reception desk is a parent at school. I have no make up on, and I'm in pyjamas and uggs. I could die of embarrassment. I'm sure they think we're quite unfeeling towards her. But I am always angry with her. I am good in a crisis, it doesn't worry me. But I am weary. Of dealing with it. With having to try to fix it all when things go bad. It's draining. We left an hour later when they settled her into a cubicle. She's always asleep by then, and she doesn't want us there anyway. And we always feel glad to leave, and feel guilty for doing so. The nurses are fantastic. They have such a hard job, and yet they are able to care for everybody, no matter what's happening to them . 

Whilst we were there, we saw an older man, quite thin, being discharged it seemed, carrying his belongings in a plastic hospital bag. His arm was shaking continuously. His IV site was bleeding so he had to go back in. When we left to go home at 6am, we saw him sitting on the bench on the green opposite the hospital, on his own. I felt really sorry for him. All alone. 

We went back to mum's and had a cup of tea and a piece of toast whilst we decompressed. Little B was pleased to see us, and no doubt confused as to what was going on. 

Shelle left at 7am. We thought we would just try to get through the day, but B and I went back to bed and dozed until 11am. 

The rest of the day was sunny, and actually a nice day. I suppose I sound unfeeling writing that. It's just that it's a dance we seem to keep doing. Where will it end? Tim was actually very supportive of Ro, and an amazingly optimistic person. He had a lot of time for her, and used to remind me to look after her. But he had (gently) suggested that maybe it might be better for me to not be so close to my family. And not in a horrible way. He's very close to his family, but there's an ocean between them. And I could well see that happening as the months rolled on. I imagine that if T had suggested moving away for work, that I would have followed him without question. But now I've begun to think about distancing myself. Perhaps I ought to look into taking a job abroad. I'm frustrated with myself for being too afraid to take chances. Taking that job in NL would have been scary but I think the benefits would have likely outweighed the fears. 


The dream has to be bigger than the fear. 

It was otherwise a relaxed day, pottering and chilling as we were tired. I had a nice bath and breakfast, and it felt like summer today. 

Shelle and Nick had B in the evening so I could go out. There was a Tango demonstration at Borough Market, and then I had a date in Soho at 10pm. The Tango thing was good, but I couldn't really join in as I was laden with bags, and didn't want to lose my camera. I enjoyed watching, as my heels bored in to the pavement beneath. 

My date was fine. He seemed like a nice guy. I am happy to chat, I'm always chatty. But it made me feel uncomfortable, and I had to make sure it didn't show. I miss Tim. I don't want to have to do this. I only want him. I have to believe that one day we may be together again. Or else that's it for me. I just can't see myself with anybody else. It's too hard. This guy had a good job, seemed like a nice person, etc, and I genuinely liked him. I think you need to see someone a few times to see if there's a spark that might grow. But part of me thinks there's no point. He admitted he's a city person (he lives in Canary Wharf), and that he would find the suburbs too quiet. It sounds silly writing it, but no matter how much T and I loved each other, where we might live became like the elephant in the room. And look what happened. 

So what do I do? Do I almost vet people to see whether our lives may be headed in a similar direction? Or just go with the flow, and ignore the big stuff? I guess it feels quite foolish to go into something knowing that there might be pain somewhere down the road. And I certainly won't set myself up for that. 

Tim was scared I would break up with him that fateful day. I didn't, it wasn't what I wanted. Looking back, it seems really silly. Breaking up because one wants to live in the city, one prefers the burbs. One wants to have children a few years down the line, the other wants to wait longer. None of those things were insurmountable. There could have been compromise. Love should have conquered all! But it seemingly couldn't. 

So hard to know where to go. Maybe I'm meant to be a one. And maybe I'll have to get used to that. I didn't sign up for all this heartache. I'm lonely, and missing being part of a couple. 

I miss T.