Thirty-three weeks weeks ago today the whole of my life altered completely.
Thirty-three weeks ago today I was still married, but very unhappily. Things between chris and I had become so strained that he had resorted to hating a very good friend of his and calling into my place of work to check and see if I was in. the arguments were heated and often, leaving our relationship in such a state of disrepair that we decided we had no choice but to give up. We were both tired physically, emotionally and mentally. It was too much to have to deal with anymore… well, I am really only at liberty to speak to myself, but I can’t help but think that he would agree were he to be reading this.
all those weeks ago i never anticipated that i would have come as far as i have or done the things i have done.
i found myself alarmed the other night at the realization that it has indeed been eight months since we ended things. the revelation came to me perched at the bar in my favourite pub... i was chatting with franny and fondly remembering all the fabulous times i've had there over the last two years and already finding myself pining for the saturdays i won't be able to prance into that beautiful little place on newland street and smell the familiar stale beer scent that i have come to love so much, saturdays when i won't be going home covered in dog hair after romping around drunkenly with buddy, the tiny resident canine.
memories came to me, swirling in the shape of gigs, cupcake extravaganzas and fag breaks with strangers... all of which were done by the side of my then-husband. the bulk of my first memories there involved chris in some way... it's not until recently, perhaps the last couple of months that i've found myself willing to go out on my own and have a good time. now though, most of my saturdays tend to see me prancing out to the pub if only to drink myself into a stupor and heckle the local hussies, disableoids and hideous chodes that filter in and out of the pub with the owner, nick. i love and cherish my saturdays and am on a mission to occupy as many of them as possible with fabulous memories involving elderflower cider, franny, nick and billy ocean. i seem to have very happily developed the ability to go out and have a good time on my own, something i never anticipated i'd be able to do had you asked me to eight months ago... now though, i go out and am finding myself existing with a new-found confidence that i have fallen madly in love with.
the last two weeks my mobile has played host to countless texts from my ex-husband... the first arriving on the day of my newest tattoo... i was reclining in a pub on a sofa that was seemingly made of clouds, musing over the fabulousness of life when my mobile vibrated on the table. i scooped it up expecting a comical limerick from Pow or some sort of love from the boyface, but instead it quoted the sender as 'Estranged.' i snorted at janey and opened it to find a fairly casual text asking when my tattoo would be occurring and how i was. i replied advising i had just left the tattoo shop and asking if he wanted to see a photo of my newest inky baby. he said he did so i sent him a photo and asked how he was. janey and i were in the middle of discussing what his motives were for being so friendly when i got another ping/vibrate telling me about his day and generally being delightful.
this has been going on now for the last eleven days. this all comes as a surprise to me after a meal we had round mine three weeks ago. chris arrived at mine with the intent of looking at the fishy babies and planning what to do with them when i offered him a meal as i had baked bread and was making spaghetti. he obliged and we had a really lovely meal that saw us range in topics of conversation from Muffin to Manface to the fact that we both believe americans over-medicate everyone and everything they possibly can. we ate and talked and had a generally nice time... all to be squared-away by a final thought, a'la jerry springer, outlining the fact that talking to me was still incredibly painful for chris and he most likely wouldn't be in touch for a while.
despite this forecast the conversations have been flowing and chris and i have been getting on quite well... he is finally finding himself able to talk more about things, claiming that he's decided he wished he could hate me, but at the end of the day, he really does like talking to me and i know him really well, so it's nice for him.
i would be lying if i were to say that it's nice to finally be able to talk to him and be amicable. i am slowly learning to stop referring to manface by her loving pet-name and i am remembering slowly why he is a really good person. he's funny, quick and JUST the right amount of cynical. it's nice to have that back in my life, at a lovely and safe distance.
the distance comes in the form of texts... mostly daily... the content ranging from topics about bands we are both listening to and how things are going with our prospective significant others.
the last day or two my mobile has housed texts discussing how surreal it is for him that i am leaving. he just keeps repeating that he can't believe i'm going. i don't really know what to do with this information, so i am just putting it in an envelope and filing it away with the other strange and confusing bits of my life.
in other divorce-related news, i have officially met ANNA (who i plan to, from here-on-out, refer to by her real name, at the request of chris... i am feeling nice, so i have obliged). this happened on a night i was particularly drunk and looking incredibly fabulous. i was on form enough to prance over, shriek about my ducks (see later blog) and then grab her and apologize for ever upsetting her. she seemed pleased and said she'd like to talk if i was going to be around later in the night... i said i was, but once i had another drink in me the bile in my stomach said i wasn't.
last night sealed the amicable deal, when during my regular date-night at bar one, whilst sat at my regular seat (which offers me the PERFECT perspective of any and all people who might enter the pub) with nick and franny, ANNA and chris walked in... i was desperate to contain my glee as i pulled out my little tin covered in unicorns and moustaches which houses my smoking (cancer) products. i told franny she needed to smoke as well and we pranced outside to see them sat there with their perspective drinks. franny and i chatted a bit and then, somehow, i can't really recall, i was beckoned over to them. we chatted about the fact that i had seen ANOTHER man dying (see later blog), about the gallery opening nick and i went to and how incredibly inebriated i was.
we bantered for a while and i was then saved by an attack stage left... it was my squishy pow-face and amy. i spun around and immediately embraced amy, then pow. the three of us squealed about everything and then nothing... then got more drinks.
the remainder of the night was just delightful. i existed in between chats with Nick and ANNA/Chris/Mark... ever-being followed by amy, so as to ensure i said or did nothing stupid. we smoked, drank and generally got on okay. it was nice and today, i can say that my divorce is going okay... chris and i have gone past the horrible fighting stage and are now on regular speaking terms again, which pleases me. despite all the bad times we had, he's a really good person and i hated the thought of losing that.
now, please enjoy some photos from last night...
