Tuesday, May 13, 2014

Metamorphosis



We had a bit of break-though the day of the text war.  The day he sent a message to my phone about me 'breaking his heart' to which I erupted into something of an emotional Vesuvius.  Albeit via SMS, in a bathroom fittings showroom of all places.

But his every response to my 'many' messages became more and more conciliatory, each time he backed down a tiny bit further.

After driving around for a while with tears leaking furiously from beneath my sunglasses (it was a beautiful day) I opted not to burden any of my friends and I headed home to write.

He'd told me he was going to come over to visit Lilli. He was going away for ten days on a business course and he wanted to spend some time with her before he left.

Well he came.  He also broke down and cried - with my awkward arms, no longer used to holding him, draped around his shoulders. He told me he was so sorry. He told me he'd never hated me - he told me he loved me. I told him all of that was a revelation to me.

Eventually he went upstairs and cried on his own for a bit longer. 

He came over the following day to be with Lilli while he waited for his taxi to the airport and he was calm and co-operative.


Things have been a bit easier since that day, the combative version of him seemed to evaporate with his tears. Besides that, he's away, so life has been on more of an even keel anyway.
Mother's day wasn't the ordeal I'd dreaded - Lilli did everything she could to make it special and she succeeded fabulously. He even sent me a Happy Mothers day message.

But.

That's a word isn't it?

My mother is elated over his progress and I have to agree on one thing; He's come a long way if he can say sorry. That was always his Achilles Heel while he was unwell - the one thing that he couldn't pretend in front of the ever watchful doctors; his assignation of blame to me and all the righteous outrage he'd attached to it.

So definitely progress there.

But.


I am a different person than I was. My world doesn't evolve around him anymore. Furthermore, I've proven to myself that I don't need him - emotionally or fiscally. I survived, often thrived, taking care of our little angel on my own. I'm stronger, more confident and I know my worth.

I was and am still working towards financial independence. That is something I wont loose sight of now or ever again.  He used to lament over the pressures of being 'the provider', but the provider is the one who holds the power. 
It's a far more precarious position, I've discovered, to be a 'dependent'. If the rug is suddenly pulled out from under you, whatever the circumstances, you will fall over.
Your survival depends entirely on how fast you can get up off the floor.

I wont ever be dependent on anyone other than myself again.








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