Sunday, 16 June 2013

Slip sliding

Things feel like they're going backwards. I indulge in some wallowing.

It's supposed to be getting easier, but the last few days are a relapse into the tears and hopelessness of the first weeks post-Virgil. I miss him. I think of the good things: our conversations, collaborations and the tenderness that made us appear so affectionate and solid in our love. I have to remind myself about our frustrating sex life, his unwillingness to compromise and my jealousy about Sarah.

Everything that went wrong is an effect of my personal inadequacy and inability to be pleased with the hand I was dealt. After all, it was a pretty good hand, I tell myself. Nothing and no-one is perfect. Stop finding fault. I am envious of couples in the street; of friends who seem happy together in their relationships. I want to try again, and again, if Virgil would just meet me halfway, I think.

I count the good qualities and benefits being in a relationship with Virgil brought: tech support; funny stories and things to look at from the internet; film and show recommendations; guest list tickets; recreational drugs; fun times in hotels (I had never stayed in a hotel in London before I met Virgil. It had never occurred to me!); unconventional friends; the music he played which I almost never bothered to remember the name of and may never hear again.

There's the other list, which I probably won't describe too much of here, of things about him that irritated, frustrated or plain hurt me. His hostility to almost all forms of physical activity; the refusal to do things simply or cheaply even when money was tight; his cooking; his stranglehold on our meagre sex life; always having to be the one who worked hardest, longest and latest.

There's a cost/benefit aspect to everything, isn't there? I remind myself how unhappy I was, but it wasn't Virgil's job to make me happy. I have failed at being happy. I have failed at the job of being in a relationship. In spite of knowing how unhealthy these thoughts are they flood my mind. Only I can make myself happy, and I don't seem to be having much success.

I wonder where Virgil is today and what he might have been doing. I wonder if he is seeing Sarah, and whether he will go to a gathering at a mutual friend's flat (more his friend than my friend though) tonight, which I decided not to attend.

Wasn't I supposed to be over bursting into tears all day? At the beginning I decided to put my best foot forward, accept the break up is for the best and focus on moving on. Now I've regressed. I want to crawl back into our relationship and pull Virgil over me like a blanket. But I want to start again with a different premise and a new outlook.

Knowing that Virgil is implacable in this matter makes me feel unbearably sad. This is not the break up I want to be having. This is not the me I want to be. But I'm so fucking bereft and lonely. To love and be loved is the biggest and best thing in the world. It's more important than anything else and I just lost the person I loved the most.

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