There are few feelings so sad and so difficult to manage as the awful ones we experience when the love of our life falls out of love with us. It can take years to recover and our hearts remain forever wounded by the past. It`s a struggle to place aside the time when the relationship was still real and images of our lost love appear unsolicited again and again in our thoughts and our dreams. It`s enough to drive you over the edge and in my case, it very nearly did. I wanted to write this piece to offer some hope for those of us who are struggling, I`m still here in spite of the madness that engulfed my every moment of every day when I lost my love and to reassure anyone who may be in the place where I was a decade ago, that it`s possible to survive and move on with your life. It hits me again from time to time and I have to employ all I have learned over the years, not to indulge or I would surely drive myself crazy. So that`s my first suggestion; do not drown yourself in thinking about the past!
Easier said than done.
Having spent some months gradually dying from the emotional fallout, I woke up one morning and thought, “I must do something about this.” I purchased a book by Paul McKenna called `I can Mend Your Broken Heart` which helped tremendously. It`s full of exercises that help to change the way that you think. It taught me how to stop dwelling on my lost love and honestly, it was a life saver so thank you for that Mr. McKenna. Once I was on a more even keel, I joined a dating site, Plenty of Fish. I met plenty, many of them shocking liars. I dated a few, became friends with two one of whom was to the far right but I think I educated him. Slept with several, I have enough stories I am writing the book. Can you imagine being in bed with someone who keeps repeating, “oh dear, oh dear.”? I did. Or getting in to bed with someone who looks like Jabba the Hut? I did. Or watching someone pumping up their erection with a plastic contraption because he has cardio vascular disease? I did. For a short while I became a charity fuck. Some of the men I met were truly sad and some were wonderful, as in “Hello it`s only me.” A man who liked to dress up as a Viking and who wanted me to be his wench, a lovely man but I am no man`s wench. I learned aromatherapy and a few men from POF regularly came to my house for their free massage. I really enjoyed that and there was no sex involved but the neighbours must have thought I was running a knocking shop. Not that I care. And then I met a man who I really liked and moved in with him. Hey ho, it didn`t work out but it doesn`t matter because when we finally parted ways, we parted amicably which is by far the best way.
I`m 62 now and I don`t know if I will meet anyone who will ever return to me the passion, the insanity, the beautiful intimacy or the depth of love that I felt then but I`ve had a lot of laughs and a few tears on my way to finding out so do not despair. I reckon there are two ways in which we might leave this life, the first is Peggy Lee singing “ Is that all there is?”
The second is Liza Minelli singing Cabaret
So it`s up to you dear reader if you are feeling sad. I know which way I`m going. I`m going like Elsie.