Post 407: The Storm has mostly blown over us…
My Darling blew the biggest storm forever over the Easter eggs for our eldest and his wife yesterday. A proper storm in an egg cup; and in front of my dear Big Sis.
Today, I’ll keep my answers clipped, if I’m texted, and I’ll keep busy; that’s the best way to iron out the wrinkles of our relationship problems.
The fact is that I’m not very experienced in this situation because I’ve rarely been such a plonker before. I’m a good guy in the main — not totally perfect, but who is?
I got up early and did a bit of spring cleaning in the bedroom, consisting of a three minute run around the bedroom chasing bits out that I don’t need in here. This is my room and I’m taking it over big time.
Where did spring go? It’s shrinking every year and soon will be a thing of the past. Winter turns to summer as I contemplate the colours changing from cold, dark winter tones to an unbearable heat where the air conditioner cools the dazzling summer colours.
Another bag of someone else’s bits and bobs collected that are nothing to me, half fills a reusable shopping bag that I refill daily after emptying yesterday’s stuff into the recycling or refuse bin like a good adult should do. I’m a good, responsible adult. But mainly it’s to clear out cupboards, shelves and drawers in a vain attempt to get some order in this room; I’ve been in here for nearly a year, I need my space.
Holy smoke, a year already.
A year without my Darling by my side in my bed.
A year where drugs and apparatus have made our lives better and worse but in the hope that I’ll be back in the marital bed at some stage soon.
I should test out whether I can get out of a normal bed now. It’s been a long while since the Tenerife holiday and the pains I had after five or six days of good times followed by three or four days of bad. That would help cool off any problems before they got bigger; especially ones that are basically over nothing — two cheap chocolate eggs.
Oh, the feeling of our bodies touching has been nearly forgotten in the sensible restructuring of our lives upstairs, she’s in a bed meant for two, I’m not.
The recycling done and dusted, I sit down with my favourite pen and easily fill the gaps between the lines of my borrowed, or repurposed, exercise book, addressing another possible admission to my book. The book that, in a week, has gone from utter madness to a real possibility.
That’s due to the many people I know — and don’t know — who are helping me along the bumpy road to completion.
An hour passes quickly and another micro-chapter is done. I’m starting to get there, or at least I’m on my way.
So just for fun and to quieten an inquisitive mind, I counted roughly the words I’ve written. The average word count for the first week is 5k, which, in all honesty, is okay.
It’s not complete chapter and verse, but I’m new to this and I need small wins to help me along.
A pal of mine, who I can rely on to be frank and brutally so sometimes, has said his piece; I asked, so he answered.
But given what he knew from everything experienced with his ex-wife’s book, it could take up to four years to complete the whole affair — and I really don’t have that amount of time.
This news blew me away and knocked me off track. It seems too big an obstacle to get over. Too much honesty has created a fissure in the ground I’m travelling along; I need a bridge.
It’s time to make a coffee and have a rest from negative thoughts.
While the coffee brews, I take a couple of photos of the pages I’ve scribed this morning and send them off to Japan. I feed the hungry cat I’m trying to train into being a slower eater.
“Away” is the new command I’m working on. It’s to stop him nudging my hand when I get close to his blue plastic bowl to feed him so I don’t sling all the food across the garage floor.
That damn cat.
Is it working? Not yet is the answer. But I’m not giving up.
I have to vacuum the whole area where the dry rice-based food is thrown every day. I bet the mice love it, if they are happy to have hallucinating rice food. (It’s not hallucinating food; it’s hypoallergenic. Silly me. That’s the morphine talking)
I get myself some breakfast and try to put the four-year book plan behind me and watch some K-dramas.
It’s not long before I’m looking out of the kitchen window for my ex-work colleague who will, I’m sure, boost my confidence and help build a bridge over the four-year thing.
He’s just through the door and I get a text from the car auctioneers, I think. On inspection, it’s a late question about the car gear-stick, would you believe.
While I’m dealing with this unnecessary request (because the auction is now over), my pal has sat down in the kitchen and started to read bits of my exercise book with this week’s 5k words.
We both finish our unnecessary chores and I say, “Shall we head out for a bite?” to which he is very eager to get going. I wonder if that’s to get away from the 5k words?
We head to town and settle in a corner window seat of the café which allows me to ogle at the world going by over the heads and plated food of the al fresco diners.
Our hot drinks arrive and we get talking.
He’s very impressed to have read some of my words, and with that the bridge is starting to be built over that chasm.
We chatted and he advised what might be right for me to try out. I greedily eat up all the advice I can get to return to positive thoughts about the whole idea and, as he leaves me back home, and after an ice cream that needed eating from our freezer, he headed on to his own shopping, but we agreed to meet again very soon.
I needed that.
I’m back on an even keel.
One of the non-booky conversations we had I continued arranging after he’d gone, which was a pressie for my Darling wife on our anniversary in three days’ time.
I can’t say what it is, but it’s a cracker.
Sorry, but I can’t say more. It’s a secret from this page, for now. Just for a few more days. You understand.
My Darling came home and went straight to bed and I’m glad to say the frosty chocolate-egg feelings are gone and that just leaves us to build our relationship back up one kiss at a time.
That’s not a bad thought.
And with that lovely thought I’ll leave you all with the hope that my pains are contained and the energy is rising for a start to work that’s only a week and a bit away now.
I’m honoured but nervous.
It’ll be fine, I’m sure.
So night night.
Take care.
PS
The writer lady in Japan did leave a wee reply a bit later, that things are just great.
I like that.
Good night
