Breaking up hurts - literally.

An odd title, I will admit, but it’s an apt description of the way that I am feeling (or not feeling) at this moment in time.

I’ve split with my partner, and it came about in probably one of the worst locations possible – as in 200+ miles from home and no way of getting back home other than travelling with my ex.

It happened Sunday night, and I admit that I should have seen this coming.  We’d been arguing on and off for about 3 months and I thought that I could get past this “little” hurdle and move our relationship on. That was a vain hope on my part.

The bank holiday weekend didn’t get off to a good start when I ended up working on the Friday morning (not my idea I hasten to add – I was asked to by my boss) and like an idiot, I agreed. So that started things off on a sour note for us.  I was slightly late leaving the office as I was trying to finish my work off (usual month end stuff) and my soon to be ex partner kept texting me to ask if I had left yet.

When I finally finished, I got to the car and called him as I was leaving the car park (I’ve got hands free Bluetooth on the car) and told him that I would be with him soon.  Thankfully, I’d already packed my bag and it was just a case of parking my car and getting on the road north.

We agreed to eat lunch en-route, as it was also a chance for us to talk on “neutral” territory and try to sort out the issued that were niggling the pair of us.  Should have guessed that wasn’t going to be something that would work – especially not the way I was feeling.

Needless to say it wasn’t a particularly pleasant journey for me, and I admit I was only too happy to get to the hotel so that I could get a little peace and quiet.  Nope – not happening.  He seemed determined to micro analyse our relationship.

Now I’m all in favour of an open and honest discussion on things – but as far as I was concerned, this was certainly not the right time or place to do such a thing.  Mainly because I was tired (I’d been stressed at work) and I was unable to walk away and cool my temper off as we were in a strange (OK strange to me) location.

So that started another row, and I admit that I was sorely tempted to sleep on the sofa in the room.  In hindsight, I wish I had.

Saturday came, and it started really well – and we met up with the family – the primary reason for going away.  They were really nice and friendly and made me feel really welcome.  But I have to admit that there was tension in the air – mainly between my ex and myself.  I felt that I was having to be something I am not – ladylike.

Now getting me to wear a dress (willingly) doesn’t happen very often.  In fact, I can count on the fingers of one hand the number of times I have done so.  And Saturday night was one of them.  Why I couldn’t wear trousers and a pretty top, I don’t know, but my ex was adamant that I was to wear a dress. 

God alone knows why – his sisters in law wore trousers, and only his mum wore a dress.  So that made me feel really uncomfortable.  I won’t say that the family wasn’t nice – they really were super and seemed to go out of their way to make me feel a part of the family.

Even though there were comments about my ex having “a southern bird” for a partner.  Now there is nothing I dislike more than being called a “bird” – and picking on me because I was born in the south of England was an added insult.  

I’ve spent longer out of the south than I ever did living there, but to them, I was still a soft southerner. Or at least I was until I pointed out that anything south of Sunderland was southern to them.

Sunday was a bit of an odd day – I met up with an old friend from my uni days, and we sat talking about what had happened since then.  It was a good natter and lunch – and even my ex was quite animated, and sharing the jokes with us.  I didn’t think anything of the way my friend was with me - he was his usual self – if it was female and reasonably pretty, he flirted -the way he always did.

That was something that irritated my ex – he accused me of flirting with my friend.  Ignoring the fact that my friend’s wife was sitting beside him at lunch, and he'd also been sharing the jokes with us.

Sunday night was when things really became interesting.  My ex decided he wanted to talk, and that was fine with me...

Until it became a lecture on the things that he had found fault with over the weekend.  That was the final straw, and I exploded, resulting in something that I haven’t done for years. I lashed out physically, and if he hadn't moved, I would have hit him. 

I hit the wall, and then stomped out of the room - not stopping to grab watch, phone or anything other than the room key.

When I had finally cooled down, I walked back via reception, and had the humiliating experience of having to ask if they could get me some extra bed linen so that I could sleep on the sofa bed.

So Monday’s trip back home was hell on earth.  I had a text from a good friend asking if I was OK, and that was when the floodgates opened via text.  I admitted that I was heading for home, and that my relationship was over.

I got home in one piece physically (but in pieces emotionally), and spend time with my family, and when I went to bed, I just couldn’t get warm. 

The heating was on in the house, my room was lovely and warm, and I had an extra blanket on over my duvet, but I was cold.  I guess it was a kind of emotional shock, and all I can say is that I owe my friend a debt of gratitude that I doubt I will ever be able to repay.

Karen

To run away from you

Was all that I could do.

To run away from you

Was all that I could do.