Category Archives: Old relationships

I`m going like Elsie.


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.

Pardon me?


I have an old friend, let us call him Victor who I have known since I was a young gal. Victor and I share the bills and it is a mostly happy arrangement.  Unfortunately, he is going deaf. So am I and if you put the two together it isn`t necessarily a wonderful combination. Victor`s condition is not assisted by his regular pouring of copious amounts of olive oil into his ear canal. I actually believe he likes the feeling as it trickles inside his head, it`s a bit weird really but there you are, it wouldn`t do for us all to be the same. If you turned Victor upside down and shook him vigorously over a plate of freshly picked rocket leaves, he would produce a very acceptable salad dressing….. I digress.

This morning I awoke and as is my routine, started to run a bath. I was especially looking forward to my bath since my daughter has given me some Badedas which I love and I was anticipating an early morning soak in those lovely, green, scented bubbles. Alas it was not to be. The lights didn`t work and the water was cold. Bugger. I stuck the stick thing into our pay as you go electricity meter cursing the fact for the scrillionth time that we do not pay by direct debit. Nothing happened. We have been having work done in the house and it occurred to me that this may have something to do with the lack of light. In the absence of anyone else I woke Victor up to see if he could assist. He had been very late going to bed as he had been out with friends and so was not in the most beautiful of spirits. Rising from his bed he (rather reluctantly I would say) agreed to take a look. As the electricity meter is situated roughly 12 feet up near the ceiling we have to stand on a stool to see what`s happening. It`s a risky manouvre especially at our advanced age but to have the meter moved down would cost me £800, so bugger that. Victor grabbed   “the stool”  and stood on it and I retired to the kitchen. I could hear him calling me,  “Hel, where is it?”  but as he knows very well from forty years of frequenting each others` lives, I won`t respond to conversations shouted from the other end of the house…… so I stayed put. He called again only much louder this time,  “Where is it?”  meaning,  “Where is the stick thing?”  so I shouted back,  “It`s on the table in the front room!” “I can`t hear you Hel.” “I can`t hear you Victor!”

At this point and as commonly occurs, Victor gave up and sighing audibly he patiently waited for me to give in and go to him in the hall which of course I did. Old habits die hard. Victor was standing on the stool, leaning against the top of the front door, his head resting upon his forearms in a typically hang dog attitude. He was muttering to himself,  “Where is it,”  and  “I suppose I shall have to get it myself,”  and  “I suppose I shall have to get down off this stool and find it and then get back up again, mutter mutter…..”

At this point we were joined by another person resident in the house who had been unceremoniously woken up by all the kerfuffle. “Victor, you are shouting, have you lost something?  Can I help you find whatever it is you are looking for?” he helpfully enquired. Letting out a lengthy sigh Victor bellowed, “I CAN`T HEAR YOU.”

“YOU ARE SHOUTING VICTOR!” said our young guest. I handed Victor up the stick thing and he shoved it in the meter. After two attempts, the electricity came back on. Hallelujah! I trailed back upstairs to resume my bath apologising to resident person on the way. It took about ten minutes to get the water from cold to hot but I did finally manage it. Afterwards I stood in the window wrapped in my towel waiting for the Badedas man to arrive in the garden below me. I`m still waiting………………………….. 🙂