Separate Ways

Quick note cos it's late and I'm tired.

Ex wife came round this evening, shut the kitchen door and announced that she'd seen the error of her ways. Clocks stopped, birds fell from trees, jaws dropped across a two mile radius......

I kept a straight face and accepted it for what it was - good news at last.

She'd spent some time with her idiot ex boyfriend and decided that - at heart - he was still the same nasty piece of work that fucked her up last time. If not worse. Apparently he had a rant to her about me, along with his recently dumped girlfriend and some of our mates who he never liked. Bizarre, I only met him once and was quite nice, in the circumstances.

She's going to try and patch things up with the last bloke she was seeing, who according to everyone who knows him, is a decent chap.

That's a relief, a big dull weight off my mind.

On with the rest of life.

My son's ill, coughed so much today his chest hurts. Hope it's just a cold, nothing worse. He's in that "underlying health problems" category that worries doctors when it comes to swine flu. So fingers crossed that the good news thing stretches out a bit longer.

It's like the conversation never happened. We were out this morning, walking the dog with our son, just talking about stuff. She'd come round, we walk, we talk, she heads off and I get on with the rest of my Sunday. We don't talk about her new former-ex, maybe-back-on-again idiot boyfriend. Mostly because our son is in earshot the whole way, partly because I can't be arsed.

She sent me a text on Friday. She's met him again, thinks she can keep it in perspective, maybe get him out of her system, promises again to keep him away from our son. I spend half an hour on the platform of Bristol Temple Meads, ignoring my colleagues, trying to write a reply that doesn't use words like "you", "selfish", "stupid" or "bitch". Give up and get a cup of tea. Finally write one asking her to listen to the advice of her friends, seeing as they were the ones who had to pick up the pieces last time.

So, it's a waiting game. I've asked people near her to keep an eye on her for me. Maybe she'll handle it, maybe she won't. I still feel angry, but there's a dull, resigned edge to it now. Bring it on, let's get it dealt with.

To add to the dramatic 24 hours detailed in the last post, my ex-wife dropped a proper bombshell tonight, as she left with our son's stuff for her half of the week with him.

"I thought I'd better tell you before you hear it from somewhere else, but I've decided to start seeing XXX again."
"You've got to be fucking joking! You're mad."
"I don't want to talk about it."

So yes, it seems she's started again with the bloke - the depressive, jealous, angry idiot - she left me for three years ago. What a bloody stupid, selfish bitch. Has she forgotten?

Has she forgotten that for two years I wasn't allowed to set foot inside the house they shared because he was so jealous and insecure?

Has she forgotten the bag she used to keep packed ready for staying over at friends every time they argued so much she couldn't stand it any more?

Has she forgotten howling in the night with pain and grief?

Has she forgotten how he once called her best friend "a hatchet faced bitch" for taking her side in an argument?

Has she forgotten how our son's friends used to make up excuses to get away from their house, because the atmosphere was so bad they couldn't stand being there any more?

Has she forgotten this is the relationship that drove her to take an overdose?

Clearly she has. Or at least put a rosy enough glow over the events to think it is worth having another try. She tried to make out that when our son was there, everything was ok, that their arguments were no worse than any other kids see their parents having. Yeah, right. And more to the point, he isn't my son's parent - he has no stake, no ties and what's more, I don't bloody trust him.

Well I haven't forgotten. I told her tonight that I won't stand for my son being in the same house as him. If she gets back together with the stupid twat, I'll take custody.

This is so shit. I had just about got used to enjoying her company again. Now I've got to start watching her like a hawk, waiting for her to go off the rails again. Bollocks. How bloody selfish of her. And on an entirely selfish note, why now!>? How am I supposed to enjoy a night off, a night with a girlfriend, when I know I could get a call from the tearful stupid bitch at any time, asking me to come round and get our son because she's had another fucking argument with Dickface?

It happened this morning. She went into the vet's room, limping, head down but still managing a wag. And me and my son said goodbye and stayed outside while she was put to sleep. Turns out she probably had bone tumors so there was nothing else to do. So long Cookie. Bless her, the first dog I've ever had from a puppy, the dog my son grew up with.

We're all sad, even though it's for the best. My son came home and went to bed - totally knackered. I sat nodding off in the sunshine, reflecting on a strange 24 hours.

24 hours ago, sitting at home drinking wine with a 21 year old, kissing on the sofa. "Come on, before I change my mind," she says, taking me upstairs. I've heard more romantic come-ons, but hey, it's not the time where conversation counts for much. And the conversation earlier that night, well, I guess it's not a long term relationship in the making.

15 hours ago, waking up in bed beside her, soft and smiling. Breakfast, coffee, weekend papers (her - Guardian, me - Telegraph). It's been a daft fantasy of mine that I'd someday have a girlfriend who wanted to read the weekend papers in a big bed with me over coffee, a girlfriend who'd fight me for the news-section, not just turn to handbag reviews. And it'd never happened til today.

13 hours ago, lying on the bed kissing, the phone rings, my ex-wife in tears, she's taking the dog to the vets.

10 hours ago, back at my ex's house, drinking tea and talking about all the funny things Cookie did when she was a puppy - nicking some woman's flip-flop and fucking off up the beach with it, getting medieval on some poor puppy's ass.

9 hours ago, sending a text to the 21 year old "I'd like to see you again but I don't know when we'll next get to. Ah well, it gives us a chance to think what we make of this thing of ours...."

8 hours ago, getting a text, not recognising the number:
"Hey I was just thinking that we haven't really spoken as friends for ages and its my fault I guess. So do you want to have lunch next week sometime? It would just be nice to catch up maybe?"

I took me a minute to work it out. I didn't recognise the sender because I had deleted her number from my phone months ago. It's from my ex-lover - the woman I thought I'd lost forever- it's a long, private story. But it's her... contacting me.

We should meet on Wednesday.