Ramble: Matters Of The Heart

The end of a relationship can be tough, but it doesn’t have to be. Never forget who loves you the most.

I don’t want to get too much into what has been going on for me as I don’t feel that it does anyone any favours in the dissolution of a relationship. However, as is in the true fashion of my blog, I knew that today, I needed to write something.

Last night, I should have written and posted on my blog. Around the same time, I was also trying to solve a number of matters in my relationship with Will. We hadn’t been right in a few weeks and, after a heated exchange over Sunday night and Monday, I’d agreed for one last lengthy conversation. One last shot of adrenaline, as I called it, one last chance to save the life of our relationship.

Again, I won’t go into what and why except to say that there were things that were asked of me that I couldn’t give, things that would have unfairly impacted my marriage and my relationship with my husband, as well as behaviours that made me deeply uncomfortable. In the end, I had to chalk it up that we had irreconcilable differences, send him one last calm and collected goodbye message, and then let him go. I blocked him straight away and I blocked his number as well. Even then, he tried to reach me in a few other ways and one by one, I blocked and binned those, too. Even my poor husband was a little surprised at just how steely his wife could be.

In the moment, the first feeling was a sense of coldness and apathy. There was no way back and there was no way for negotiation. I’d given him three chances – the same as I’d give to any lover – and he’d used them all up. Nope, this time I was done and dusted. This time, I was gone.

But this morning, that feeling was a little different.

This morning, there was a sense of emptiness and defeat, perhaps even one of of frustration and sorrow too. I’d opened myself up to him and I’d shared with him thoughts that I’d never revealed to anyone else. I’d given him as much as I could give, and as much as I could give still wasn’t good enough. Was I ever good enough? Was he right, perhaps? Did I try to maintain too much control?

Enough with this defeatist thinking! I am PK motherfucking E (PKE being the initials of Princess Kitten Elena, the initials of a jovial name once awarded to me by my husband). Had I forgotten just how strong I am?

Making breakfast stung a little. I served myself up a portion of the muesli that he’d once advised me to eat instead of my beloved breakfast biscuits and I sprinkled it with some mixed spice, just as he had always done. I also added a teaspoon of extra sugar for my sweet tooth, and just because those of us who sin will always sin. For once though, what I found as I ate my breakfast was a sense of calm and awareness. It’s quite amazing what happens when you’re not constantly glued to your phone.

As I ate, I became aware of the seat cushion beneath my bottom, I became aware of the chewiness of the sultanas and the crunchiness of the hazelnuts. I became aware of how I sat upright and I breathed slowly and deeply into my stomach. Yes, I was okay, and I was going to be okay.

Loving kindness, I realised, that was what today was about. I wished him no ill and I wished him no harm, I had only come to realise that this one wasn’t meant for me. At the same time though, I had to remember to love and forgive myself. Right now, I needed some love and kindness, too.

After breakfast, I sat on the floor and played fetch with Hugo, something else that I hadn’t done in weeks because I had been too distracted by my phone. I’d enjoyed the company – it can be very lonely when your husband works in another room for nine hours a day – but the constant distractions had been, well, distracting. The home suffered, my blog suffered. Everything had suffered.

“You little stinker! You popped the lure ball while Mummy wasn’t looking,” I chided, “you’re lucky you’re so cute.”

The ‘lure ball’ was, in fact, a supposed pop-proof, slightly squidgy green tennis ball that Hugo is obsessed with, and Hugo will drop any tennis ball that he presently has hold of in order to get to it. Now that it’s popped though, it’s largely ineffective. That’ll be more money spent.

The beautiful thing about this experience has been the ‘gifts’ that it has given me, of which there have been plenty. Some of them have been tough to accept, and some have been more pleasant.

Will, I realised, reminded me a lot of my father, both good and bad, and it reminded me how much I miss him. It made me realise that I wasn’t ready to let go of Dad, that I still cling to anything that reminds me of his fatherly love for me, and that I haven’t yet truly come to accept his passing. This is something that, as much as it will hurt, I now know that I have to work on.

Second, and as weird and bizarre as it sounds, a part of me wished that my parents had broken up. Will reminded me of my father and I, in may ways, am just like my Mum – passionate, hard-working, loving, stubborn. Will and I didn’t work out, and my parents used to argue over even the smallest of things most of the time. When they weren’t arguing, my parents spent a lot of time in separate rooms or in a sort of tolerance of one another, they were never truly one another’s best friend. Having a husband who loves me unconditionally and makes me laugh everyday, I realise now how happy my mother could have been. Sure, so I wouldn’t be here, but then my mother truly deserves to be happy. She sacrificed a lot for my Dad, and she’s just beginning to discover that now.

Third, I came to realise conditional and unconditional love, and the love displayed towards me from my parents at times was, unfortunately, often very much conditional. As mentioned above, I was able to realise that the love I receive from my husband is unconditional, and it has only made me happier and more confident as a result. We’ve both seen one another at our best and we’ve both seen one another at our worst, and yet we go on loving one another regardless. Our love in unconditional, and it goes both ways.

Okay, so there may have been a few times when we have both been pushing it. Really, really fucking pushing it.

Fourth, I realised that I actually don’t want a 24/7 D/s dynamic, and I was able to redefine that with my husband. I don’t need setting tasks, I can kick my own ass most of the time. I will always welcome new blog post ideas, though!

Fifth, maybe I’m not polyamorous. Realising this, we were able to revert our marriage back to “open” and away from polyamory. Open means being open to kinky friends and potential play partners in the future. However, romantic love is a lot easier for me when I focus it on just one person.

Sixth, and related, I was able to realise and speak up about some of what was wrong in my marriage. Okay, so it was mostly okay, but I realised that I was being a bit motherly sometimes and my husband’s reluctance to help out with the chores was only ever going to cause its problems. For his part, Wolfie now diligently cleans the kitchen every night and I’m more careful in how I speak to him. Our relationship has changed and we’re both more happy, relaxed and loving as a result.

Seventh, while enjoying some time with my husband, I learned that he is proud of me and none more so than the day that I walked into a courtroom, suited and booted, and I owned it. He sees me at my best – when I am most proud of myself – and he is proud of me, too. It’s pride, respect and unconditional love like that which make me want him by my side. Always.

Eighth, and something that I will always be grateful to Will for, I’ve learned that I am important too. I am notorious for putting myself last and my health and wellbeing has only ever suffered as a result. From earlier bedtimes to stopping to relax at an earlier time and extra half hour in bed ‘just because’. I’ve stopped feeling like I need to justify doing whatever I want to do for me. Now, if I want to listen to music or go to bed a few hours earlier, I will.

Finally, I learned many qualities about myself. I am strong, loving and caring, but I am perhaps also too forgiving and too apologetic. I give people too many chances, and not everybody deserves a second one. Again, I wish Will no ill and I wish him no harm, but looking back now, I do wish that I’d been a lot clearer with my boundaries from the start.

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