Trip 7, Day eight

Last night we argued. It removed a fear that has plagued me for 3 years. It was uncomfortable for a little while but we soon were back to normal.

What we didn’t talk about, and I wish I had, was a conversation about the future which he brought up. He was talking about his career prospects and asking my opinion, telling me I was the only one he could talk to.

That I loved, and I was objective as I could be. I told him that thinking about doing something was often worse than the doing. He’d told me that he hated making decisions and hated change. Don’t I know it.

What I didn’t love was that I was not one of the options we discussed. Granted, we were talking career, but some of the options mentioned would not encourage him to come to me any sooner. It was like a hot knife of pain in my chest. What does Tolle say? Don’t focus on the future. Really hard not to when you desired future seems to have dismissed you some what.

Short conclusion to that: I couldn’t look him in the face and brought up something else as an excuse for my behaviour which then caused the disagreement. Great stuff.

This morning, despite all being well by bed time (he locked me to him on the sofa and wouldn’t let me go until late), he didn’t come to me. Which was really unfortunate, as I’d had a bad dream, woke up knowing it was the last day and we’d had that dusagreement…I needed those morning embraces more than anything. I didn’t get them. He had to rush to work.

This afternoon there have been plenty of hugs. My mind is on overdrive, though. I’m trying to Tolle it out but it’s not working so well.

****

It’s now midnight.

It’s been a weird day of high emotion. I suppose that isn’t surprising. We cuddled for most of the day. I was bored and frustrated a little but it was more about being uncomfortable about leaving than anything else. Again, digging deep to the real feelings is helping.

After dinner, I lay on the bed. I was putting off packing my case and even now it’s barely done. He’d been washing something but came in and shut the door.

We lay on the bed, hugging and then had sweet sweet kisses – real kisses. The kisses he won’t give me often because they always lead to something. Which they did. It was beautiful, connected love making which was so special. It was tender and loving and a moment I will never forget.

We showered and then relaxed some more. It was a weird evening in some ways as I was so on edge. I got jealous over something he showed me which is nothing new. He annoyed me when he wouldn’t answer a question which he had asked me earlier and I had answered, but at least it made me leave him to half pack.

When I came back, I put my back to him it what can only be called a childish move. He tapped my shoulder to show me something on his phone and told me if I followed the instructions, I would see someone who loved me. It was one of those trick of the eye things and yes, weirdly, it did look like him. He was quickly forgiven after that romantic gesture.

We drank tea and then a programme came on which we all began to watch. Luckily for me there were French subtitles and my A level French came in useful a little as I was able to understand quite a bit. It was funny and his mother watched it with us. Wildcard told me what was going on too which helped.

What I loved was the way he sat with me. Normally, he lies on the sofa, head at the corner, and I sit feet end. His feet are often in my lap and I love it as it feels intimate without breaking cultural protocol. But this time he moved so he was sat right next to me, leaning on the same cushion. Respect means we couldn’t be too close but I’d argue that we broke that a little. It was, again, a romantic gesture and another moment I won’t forget.

As soon as it finished and his mum left, he tickled me senseless. Then after tidying up, time for bed.

As always, he came in to check on me and ask if I needed anything and to say goodnight. His kisses and hugs were lovely. And when he walked away, quickly came back when he sensed my tears.

And here I am. In the queue, waiting for the plane. Trip 7 is practically over: just a flight and a few train journeys then I’m home.

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When it rains

This morning, I woke to a dim light and the recognition that I couldn’t hear as many birds as yesterday. It’s raining.

And, despite my accomplishments yesterday – I kept walking round outside to admire my handiwork last night – today is missing that buzz of happiness.

Although, to be fair, it’s only 8am.

It’s not that I don’t like rain, I actually do. Those huge droplet rain storms that appear out of nowhere – even though your anxious about getting soaked, there’s something thrilling in running in it as huge drops cascade around you. Or those light showers that send little releases of cool on a hot day. One of my favourites is a summer rain storm where the quality of the light makes the green of the garden almost illuminous. And you can’t beat a decent thunderstorm when you’re safe in doors, looking out at nature’s anger.

The rain this morning has given a little disappointment but has also given a small element of hope.

I’m disappointed because I can’t get back out into the garden to tackle Sideshow Bob’s hair of ivy and rosebushes. Read about this here: https://wp.me/p86hNl-BH

I’m hopeful, because maybe the last of my dad’s hens will appear once the rain has gone.

She was in my title of yesterday’s post but I didn’t write about her. Probably because I felt so positive and what I need to say is negative. I’d hoped to find her there this morning, pecking at my patio doors for her breakfast but she wasn’t, like she didn’t appear at all yesterday.

Why does it matter? It’s just a hen. Because she’s the last of my Dad’s hens.

Dad had chickens all his life from a small boy until the day he died. And because of that, by association, I guess I have too. In the five years since his death, numbers plummeted by fox visits, natural deaths and goodness knows what else, until we were down to single numbers.

And now, I fear, there are none. Another piece of my father gone.

Today in general, I’m just feeling a bit flat. I don’t know if it the fact that the last hen is gone or the fact it is raining. I don’t know whether it’s because I now face a day of monotonous housework instead of being outdoors in the sunshine. Maybe it’s because I’m alone.

Whatever pride I felt in myself yesterday was tinged with the constant wish that I wasn’t tackling this house and garden alone. I want someone else who cares – a partner. I want someone whom I can talk to about our plans and projects, someone who will be enthusiastic when I’m not – and vice versa- someone to build a home and future with.

That person was never my ex-husband, even though his name is still on the house deeds. Unfortunately, I’m doubting whether I see Wildcard as that person either.

*****

It’s stopped raining. And look who is back:

Cycle

I’m sat in my car.

I can hear the hiss-tap of the rain as it hits my windows and the occasional gust of wind.

I’m sat in a local beauty spot. Usually you see rolling hills and distant cities. I can just see rain and clouds mostly. UK Spring time apparently started four days ago, and whilst it has been brighter and lighter, winter has not quite given up its hold yet.

The same could be said for me.

On the whole I’m feeling brighter. I like my job and feel more confident and settled than I have in a long time. I’m happy there, for now at least.

Since booking my flights, I’ve felt like my relationship with Wildcard has settled too – thank goodness. Maybe with the pressure off, we’ve both relaxed. We’ve been laughing again, affectionate again. Not that we weren’t before…I guess the undercurrent has gone and not just for me.

My daughter is starting to look better. My son is still having his difficulties but is feeling the positive pull of College.

Winter darkness hasn’t quite disappeared yet. Sometimes inwonder how I will ever find my way out of all this. How will I be truly happy again? What do I want to be happy? Sometimes, it feels like there is now way out and I will continue in this spinning limbo.

I had hoped that the therapy will push me out of the final patch of shadow and into the sunlight. Today though, I’ve been told I will get my therapy in the next 12 weeks. It’s much longer than I had hoped. I can’t seem to find the answers to my worries. Someone to help clear my mind and gain clarity would have really helped. 3+ months waiting for that seems too much.

I have little choice though. I guess I just have to keep going, keep searching for my truth. I refuse to stand still. I refuse to sink. I will cling on to the light, the positives and keep searching.

*******

I wrote the above a few days ago.

It’s Saturday now and I’m cleaning as usual. That’s what I do at weekends, I clean.

It gives me little satisfaction. Although my house looks better for it, and I’ve devised a system that really works with my regular feelings of overwhelm, I can’t stop noticing all the things that need doing: that I haven’t, or can’t do.

I wonder if maybe it is all too much, like some of my relatives think.

As I showered, I contemplated this. I realised something significant. It’s not just fear of failure and rejection that are my triggers. It’s something bigger than that. It’s my fear of not being enough.

This is not a new concept for me: it’s one of my biggest issues with Wildcard, often self imposed. What I realised today is that it is an underlining streak of darkness in all aspects of my life.

I give my all to something or someone, but when I don’t reach what I aspire to, or I don’t get back what I expect, I feel like I’m a failure and or my best is not enough. I’m not enough.

I gave my all to marriage. It failed.

I gave my all to my career. I couldn’t cope anymore and ended it.

I work hard in my home every week. It’s not good enough.

I care and love my kids best I can. They’re still struggling.

I love Wildcard more than I have ever loved another man. Still no commitment.

See what I mean? I give my all, don’t get the returns I expect, so plunge deep into negativity.

I have no idea how to break this cycle.

Daily prompt: travel

You’re going on a cross-country trip. Airplane, train, bus, car, or bike?

What an apt prompt!

All of these have their benefits and their negatives.

Take plane travel. You can go almost anywhere in the world, relatively quickly. With luck and a window seat, you can see amazing sights of lonely islands, mountains ranges, harbours, villas and forests. But, the stress of security, queuing whilst waiting for hours and hours….booo.

And trains? Well, similarly, you can get some amazing views. I once travelled to Italy from Austria by train and it was spectacular. But, train tickets aren’t cheap and I find trains a little claustrophobic after a while. I’ve never gone in 1st class – maybe that’s what I’m missing.

Cars give you spontaneity. Tired? You can stop. See something wonderful and want a picture? Not a problem. Driving gives you privacy and independence. The downside of course, is the actual driving.

Although, not as labour intensive as a bike. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate a Sound of Music style bike ride like anyone else – summer sun, scenery and fresh air. I’m not so keen on a bruised bottom, tired legs and insects flying into my face. No thanks.

And I’m not even going to start on buses. Erm, no.

Little steps

My son calls this ‘bipolar weather’. He would be right. I’m sat in my sister’s front garden with the sun blazing down on the bouncy castle. I can feel the heat burning my chest. Less than half an hour ago, as we drove home,  it was raining.

This morning we went to see another college. At 45 minutes, it’s quite a drive. However, it has excellent support for his SEN and more importantly, has a motorsport course from level 1 to degree level. It also has residential facilities and is tucked away in the countryside.

My son has wanted to work with cars since a little boy and has an encyclopedic knowledge of cars and parts and goodness knows what. This could be the making of him. He is positive about his future for the first time in …. well, since he was a small boy.

Little steps.

Last night I booked my flights to see Wildcard. For May. 😄

Whilst on our walk and talk last night, he asked me when I wanted to come, out of the blue. I gave the dates, he said OK. I said- OK you’ll think about it, or OK I can come? You can come, he replied. Despite all my angst and frustration in the past few days, a massive smile spread across my face. Any thoughts of making a point by not going rapidly disappeared. I’m going, I’m happy.

Lava

Excuse my writing. I can’t promise this will be coherent or logical or valid, or even rational.

I can feel the anxiety and emotion and angst bubbling like lava in my solar plexus. My breathing is shallow.

I’m writing to get it all out. To purge it from my system in the hope that clarity will remain.

I’ve learnt enough about myself recently to know that this has been a slow build: a collection of evidence and concerns that my brain has stored, just waiting for the last piece of the mismatched puzzle.

And it will be mismatched. I’ve learnt enough about myself to know that, too.

It’s been the two months of being on edge, not knowing if my actions have ruined my relationship.

It’s the two months of him being on a cycle of busy and ill and therefore, just that little bit distant.

It’s the fact that he won’t commit to a time for me to visit.

It’s the fact that the plane prices are rising.

It’s the fact that my friends don’t seem to think he will ever commit to me.

It’s the fact that he’s different on the phone. Just a little. Less smiles. Less talking.

It’s how I’m beginning to lose hope. My dreams dying.

It’s how, I can no longer imagine a time when this works out.

It’s because I see my fb friend struggling in her marriage with a man from Wildcard’s country.

It’s because my London friend contacted to say her three year relationship is over.

And it’s because, nothing has changed about how much I love him. I still want him. And I fear deep down, that I’m going to get hurt.

I’m tired of the unknown and the anxiety and the overthinking and he think he is too.

*******

I called after work as I always do. He was fine, we were fine, and passed the time of day. He told me his brother had just called and wanted to know if Wildcard could take a week off in the summer so that they could all travel to a holiday resort in the North of his country.

This is going to be hard to explain, so stick with me. I’m going to sound paranoid and selfish too.

My immediate thoughts? Well, there goes the time he would have spent with me. He will use his holidays with his brother and will work when I’m there. We won’t go travelling. I will be in the house waiting for him. I’m an after thought, I’m not important. His life with me and his relationship now come second to what his brother wants. And maybe, that’s because – as I have long suspected – he doesn’t feel like I do. There’s no urgency to see me. There’s no missing me or wanting me. I feel like he could wait no end and not be bothered. (I’m crying again, btw)

So of course, as he says this, my eyes fill up. I try to hide it, as I always do, and fail also as I always do.

And he got moody. What was wrong? Why was I getting upset?

How to explain… how to get across how I feel without painting myself in a terrible light?

I just said, I was nervous that he would have no time for me. That he would have no holidays to be with me – (keeping in mind that he had 9 days off with his brother in February. He took 3 days off when I was there in January. )

He started by saying he had plenty of holiday left, then got angry and said what was the problem if he had to work? That we just stayed in his town and he worked and I stayed in the house?

And I felt devalued, again. Not important, again. And part of me knows he’s testing to see if all I want is a holiday, not him. And I know he’s in a difficult position. But why can’t our life together come first? Why can’t his brother fit around us as he was there less than a month ago?

And why was he angry?

At the same time, he talked through times when I could come and didn’t rule out my holiday in May. He wants me to come in summer, it seems, but I got the impression that was because he wanted to travel, but now that might not happen as his brother will supercede it.

He ended by telling me I had interrupted his programme and he was going, followed by the usual niceties.

And here I am.

Imsomnia

As the title suggests, last night I did not sleep well.

Yesterday was my first day with him back. He called in the morning and he made me laugh. He called a few times in the day and then again in the evening, like always. I spoke with his parents. I laughed. My daughter said it’s the first time she’s seen me happy in a few weeks.

We had an interesting conversation, Wildcard and I, about his extended family’s reaction to his brother and wife. If you remember, I was jealous of her being introduced. I want to be part of the family, like her.

Turns out, I needn’t have bothered with all that emotion. Despite the effort his brother had put in to visiting and buying gifts, the welcome of the returning nephew and his European bride was lukewarm. It’s caused arguments and has upset his mum- of that I am truly sorry. But, Wildcard said a very clear ‘I told you so’ to me about how his family have behaved. He reminded me that for him, his brothers and parents are the most important people and they know me. I got the sense that for him, that line of conversation was now forever closed. He will not be taking his wife to visit them. Whether that wife will be me if for him to know and me to find out.

We talked in passing about when I would visit next as he told me that his brother plans to return in July. That gives me the end of May holiday and August. Before I slept, I spent some time exploring prices. The flights are significantly higher than last year and it is worrying me.

Once again, I’m back in the same position of wanting to book before it gets too expensive but not wanting to push him for a date, particularly when he is still exhausted by his brother’s busy trip.

That, and general worrying about my house and kids stopped me from sleeping. I also woke at 5.30am with bad stomach ache and have been awake ever since.

Today, Wildcard was quiet and ponderous. I don’t know if it is the family arguing, or he’s tired, or worried about the fact he skipped work yesterday so he could rest, but he was not himself. It upset me a little. And then it angered me some too. But then, as I hadn’t slept, it’s hardly surprising.

I’m still overthinking. I have a counselling appointment this week and an appointment with my doctor to discuss the ADHD and autism screener I have completed. I’ve changed my anxiety medication and feel happier on those. I’m still trying.

I don’t trust my own judgement still. I don’t trust my own mind. I’m not sure I even trust other people so much.

I don’t know if my worries are valid, anxiety, half-truths or just lies to protect myself.

I was looking at photographs this week, and I realised just how much my house has degraded since Dad’s death. Maybe the feeling I have that I have changed/ am not the same, are true. I’m actually depressed but masking it. I don’t feel depressed. But I also know something is not right.

And then, when I consider that, I think about how Wildcard still loves me despite me not being my best self. Why? Why would he stick with me through all of this if he didn’t love me? I’ve said it before and will say it again, there are far easier options than me.

But, if you have a hard time trusting yourself, how can you possibly trust anyone else?

Some people believe positive thinking and gratitude sort you out. Some think it’s medication. For some, fresh air and a healthy diet. Maybe it’s all of them.

Well, I’m not giving in not matter how few hours I sleep.

Beginnings and ends, part 2

As I’m still involved in Tony Robbins free masterclass this week, I thought the following quote was poignant:

Life is what you decide to believe.

Tony Robbins

Carrying on from my last post, I’d allowed myself to collect all my negative thoughts and now was holding them like a loaded gun. I’m not good enough. He’s never going to marry me. He’s got someone else. He’s trying to hedge his bets, decide on who is the best (I see the irony in this, of course). He is never going to marry me. It should have happened by now. If he really wanted me, he would have asked. And, a whole whole lot more.

In that mindset, your brain positively seeks out evidence that you are correct. It twists and manipulates.

He called me. I was flippant and terse, loosely covering these emotions with poor attempts at humour. In short, I was not myself. He commented that I seemed to want an argument, so I lay on the bitter tasting humour a little more.

It worked for around half an hour. I, we, managed to swerve away from arguing and false humoured bickering ensued. But when you’re holding a metaphorical loaded gun, it’s never a good idea. This whole situation was not a good idea.

After an hour, we actually started rowing. I’ve rarely argued with him. There have been emotional outbursts and angry accusations when one of us has done something wrong. But usually, these are smoothed over relatively quickly.

This time, we were both angry. We both said things we probably shouldn’t. At one point, and I can see it so clearly, his eyes were cold and he basically goaded me. He pushed me right to the edge, pushing to see if I would end it. I didn’t of course.

I won’t bore you with how I started this row – and I did start it – but it may surprise you to know, I didn’t even mention the Messenger situation. No, I dragged up something else, something ridiculous on its own but was part of my ‘evidence’ that he was doing wrong.

Looking back now, I can see all the ways he tried to appease me, before the real row erupted. I wouldn’t have it. Probably, because we were not talking about what was really bothering me. There’s no satisfaction or conclusion to a conversation like that.

As the row began to die, or should I say, as my anger did but his built, my final verbal assault was probably the worst.

I told him I didn’t feel secure in our relationship. He repeated my words, clearly in shock. He brought up the gift he had given me on my last trip, the one that had initially given me so much hope. Was that not proof of his feelings and hopes for the future (my words but his implied)?

And so, I wielded my argument – the fact that he had said that the words were just on thar gift, were not real life. A cooment that had shrank my hope, again, just like how he later dismissed putting my ring on my ring finger.

“Do you not know me? What do I say when you tell me you love me? Is it not the same thing?”

“So, you did mean it? So do want to marry me one day?”

And then I cried. The barrier was gone, the gun evaporated and I was just left a broken shell whilst he seethed.

At this point he wanted to end the call. We’d been on much longer than usual and it was late – perhaps I should try to remember that if he didn’t care, he would not have stayed on the phone so long.

I asked him not to leave me like this, to tell me one way or another how he felt, to not leave me worried all night.

He told me he loved me, he wanted me, and wanted to marry me in the future. Prompted by my questions, but even so.

The call ended.

Within moments, he sent that he loved me. He sent gifs of hearts and hugs. So for the evening, I believed all was well.

It’s not though.

Since then, he’s been quiet. He’s still calling. He tells me he loves me and kisses me when we say goodbye. Today he was wearing his ring as normal. But now he is the one with a barrier. He’s cold and numb.

In my last conversation with him, just over an hour ago, I asked him if he was OK. His tone says everything. I asked if we were ok. His tone and face said even more, even if his words said we are ok.

Everything I have written since January is true. I know I need to focus on myself. I’m a mess. Now is not the time to bring him here, even if he was ready. He’s not. Maybe he sees my mess and loves me enough to stay as we are. Maybe he’s waiting for me sort my life out as much as he needs to sort his.

I’ve continued with Tony Robbins this week and have sought online advice elsewhere.

How can expect him to take a risk on who I am now, when I am not happy with who I am? Do I really want that for him? No.

I maintain – I have got to sort myself out. I’ve floundered, lived in survival mode for too long now.

Yesterday I called the doctor and I am back on my antidepressants. I’ve got counselling on the way, to hopefully help me get past the trauma of losing my dad, my career and my identity.

I’m hoping this is the end of this period of my life and I can be reborn as the new me with this all behind. I need to focus on finding a secure job that I love, rebuilding my finances, supporting my children, fixing my house. And I’m hoping Wildcard stays around long enough to see that. For the past three years, I’ve focused all my happiness on him. I can’t do that anymore because I don’t know how much more he’s going to put up with my mess.

I can’t control him or his decisions. All I can do is focus on improving myself. And hope and pray that our love remains strong enough. And hope and pray that when I have grown out of the darkness, he will be as ready as me.

You will stay stuck in your life until you have something in your life that you value more than the pain.

Tony Robbins

Trip 6, Day 10: home

Five days late in posting. My apologies!

I’m at the Gate, waiting to board my last flight home.

The flight to Spain took just over an hour. On reflection, travel wise it has added nothing as today’s flight is still 3 hours – wait, no, it’s actually saved me the three hours train journey. I will land at my local airport and will be home within half an hour.

Just like that.

Just like that, I’m back to normal. And with that sentiment, a heavy heavy weight descends on my chest.

The Hostal was simple but sufficient. I’d spoken to him briefly in the airport but I was a little lost at that time, unable to find a cash point or taxi rank (note to self, ATMs in the airport are extortionate and most taxis offer card payments 🧐). When I arrived 20 minutes later, I called him. He was tired but checked I was OK. I searched his face for…something. If he felt anything at this time, it was hidden.

I spent the rest of the evening messaging my married friend and she consoled me, kindly. But, she also said this trip needed some analysis. I needed to get control of my own future. When the time was right, we would discuss everything. She would consult her husband surreptitiously, and gain insight from a man of Wildcard’s age and culture.

As we parted I commented: if all was good, I wouldn’t need their advice, would I?

*******

I slept relatively well. I woke in the night too hot as I had blasted the slow heating to full as the room was freezing when I had arrived. By 3am, I was roasting.

This morning, I finally woke at 8.30am – around the time Wildcard would come to me, and I felt an ache like no other. I considered that he was probably still sleeping and took the time to reflect in the calm, quiet of a morning alone in a Spanish Hotel.

Within half an hour, I was ready to message. He called within minutes.

I was still searching, of course. Still searching for signs that he felt like I do. He looked tired, yes. Asking never works, but of course, I tried. We were on the phone for some time and I asked again to ‘tell me something good’. He joked, with the melodramatic voice he gives me in these situations, that he hadn’t slept thinking about me. That he was hurting because I was not there, that he couldn’t breathe. I don’t know if any of what he said was true. I only know that was how I felt. We said goodbye and I made myself get up, wipe my tears and go out. I walked the quiet streets and eventually stopped at a popular cafe for freshly squeezed orange juice and amazing coffee. Unfortunately, there were no gluten free options but I enjoyed sipping and watching the many sparrows darting so close to me for scraps.

I walked a little more and visited a supermarket to buy Spanish sweets for my children. Eventually, I made my way back and repacked and showered. I thought some more.

As I finish this post, I have completed another one too. It contains my reflections and real heartfelt soul searching – not just about Wildcard, but more importantly about myself.

Trip 6, Day 1 (part one)

7.45am

I’m on my first train.

Finally, finally, I’ve felt some excitement for my trip. Don’t get me wrong, there have been moments of excitement when i booked or when i spoke to Wildcard about the trip a few weeks ago. But in the close lead up, this was the first time.

As my sister was driving me to the train station, Wildcard called me. That is the moment I felt it: when I saw his face and knew that by the end of this day I would be looking into his eyes, in real life, face to face.

My whole body has come alive with excitement and love and anticipation. And I could see the excitement on his face too. ❤️

I’ve come to the conclusion that every trip will feel different. I didn’t expect that somehow but it has been the case.

I’ve felt a lot of anxiety leading up to this one which has surprised me: I’m a solo travelling pro now. However, the run up to Christmas, planning my sons’ birthdays and trying to get ready for my new job – on top of being organised for a trip. Yes, that’s probably what has done it.

I’ve had mixed reactions on missing my son’s 16th. First, he was the one who told me to take this flight. Close friends have told me to just go – I’ve planned and been there for every one of my children’s birthdays, as I should be. One of them pointed out that being there on the actual day isn’t the key thing – how many children have extended birthdays over s few days, or are in school? A few people have gasped at my going. I’ve gasped inwardly, admittedly. But, I planned a little party for him last night and spent all day cleaning and putting up birthday decorations. I cooked his favourite food and invited his close family. And you know what? He spent 95% of the time upstairs. We all understood – he’s autistic, and has never coped with large gatherings. But it has made me feel a little better. Tomorrow he has a few close friends coming over and I have shopped to buy food, snacks and drinks. I can do no more.

So that’s one source of my anxiety put to rest. Hopefully.

I can’t pretend either that I haven’t spent the last few nights in an anxiety spiral over whether there is any point in me going. Seems silly to say that now, in the bright light of day. A large part, although I’m only just admitting this, is because he’s working a lot in the first half of my trip. He’s worked on 5 of the 6 trips to be fair; but at this time, his work will keep him out all day and later than usual. He won’t come home in the afternoon for dinner. That’s a long time to be sat at his home, waiting for him each day. With all the arrangements I’ve had to make and the stresses of strikes here there and everywhere…well, it made me think. He admitted it in different conversation recently: he’s keeping a month of his holidays in reservation….that made more sense. Nonetheless he can’t help having to work as he is covering someone else’s planned holiday. I just have to deal with it.

The usual mental devils have reared their heads though. He doesn’t really love you. He’s not excited. You’re wasting your time. He’s never going to marry you. Blah blah blah. After two nights (and the rest) of this on repeat, I’ve had enough of these thoughts. No more.

8.34am

So, I’m now on train 3 waiting to depart for London. I’ve got a window seat – yay!- and my phone is on charge and I have a flat white coffee in front of me. Happy days.

As I turned on my phone, a photo memory popped up of ‘spotlight on Wildcard’. ❤️ Synchronicity at its best. A selection of memories from over my five trips and him in all his delicious glory. And then, as I put my music on, the very first song to play on shuffle is the song that most reminds me of Wildcard, followed by the Maroon 5 song where Adam Levine is in pilot gear…I am very, very excited now. 😊

14.25

As you can see, I’m now sat in the departure lounge. What you don’t know, is I am still early. Oops. I’ve taken a punt on the gate on the Ryanair app being correct, even though it has just changed. Trying to avoid the crowds, you know?

I’ve not spoken to Wildcard since this morning but he had told me he would have a very busy day: he sent me a voice note a few hours ago. I’m still excited. I am anxious. But mainly excited now.

And so I wait for my plane. And after a 3.5 hour flight, I will be in Wildcard’s Country.