This evening, the first for about four years , I’ve been out with my best friend.
We’ve been through a lot together in the 23 years we have known each other: weddings, pregnancy, house moves and renovations, holidays and ill parents. We’ve never argued but the birth of my third child and the start of her own business meant we drifted apart for a while.
We don’t talk as much as we used to or even see each other like we did. We’ve stopped buying birthday and Christmas presents. But when we are in contact, it’s like we’ve never been apart. And we’re there for each other, no matter what.
We have been out over the past four years – many times – but never just the two of us.
We caught up on so much tonight that we’d only skimmed over on the phone. And, on a trip to the ladies no less, I realised that actually I’m doing ok.
I miss my Dad – of course I do – but I’m functioning. I’m coping so much better with being alone when the children are with their Dad. I’m not craving human contact like I was and I don’t need my sisters’ support as much as before. I’ve got over my friend’s betrayal and although I miss our outings and adventures, I’m not scared to go alone.
Yep. I’m doing OK.
My life isn’t the way I want it to be. I’m not the say that I want to be. But I’m getting there, slowly slowly, and that’s OK too.