On Death And Resurgence

Well, it's official, I'm single again. Guttingly, scarily, exhilaratingly single.

I didn't want to be single. I wanted to stay married and work things out with him indoors, but it wasn't going to happen. There was love but no trust on either side. Nothing but blame, nothing but recrimination. Nothing but two people who really do still have love for each other not being able to live together.

Cliches abound. For the best. Bound to happen eventually. Grown apart. Left behind. Stuck in a rut.

Accusations abound. Bags get searched, 'evidence' found. More rows, less trust, screaming.

Tempers flared. It got nasty. Things were said, and slowly, painfully, the marriage died.

For the record, he was my whole life. There was no one else, regardless of what he thinks. I will always have love for him and I will always miss him.

FUCK ME THAT'S MAUDLIN!!!!!

I'm gonna be fine you know. I'm gonna take some time to be nice to me and I will be fine. Better than fine. Reborn, renewed.

And most of all, gloriously, wonderfully single.

I shall do all of the things that I wanted to do before but couldn't.

I will have weekends away with my friends.

I will flirt outrageously with both sexes and enjoy that frisson you get from being openly admired.

I will make mistakes and laugh and cringe in equal measure.

I will buy new underwear knowing it is only going to be me who sees it.

I will spend saturdays singing and dancing in my underwear whilst I do the cleaning.

I will eat Shreddies for dinner if I feel like it.

I will drink gin with sailors and Sailor Jerrys with gin hags.

Because I am loved by my children, by my friends, by my twitter followers even, and most importantly, by me...

I will go on, and I will live.