The Past is Another Country
So I had a dream the other night. I can't remember details, but the general gist of it was an ex coming back into my life. Not the ex husband. Someone from my dim and distant past. From here on, I will refer to him as PN.
PN and I went out together in the late eighties/early nineties. We met when his family moved to the island and he came to the secondary school. I was in sixth year, and despite him being the same age, he was put into fifth year. I can't remember why. I only remember thinking that he was the most gorgeous boy at school. He had the most beautiful smile, and eyes that I could have drowned in. Don't even ask about the body, because he was fit. Very fit.
I'll tell you a little secret- I still have a photo of him in my wallet from when we were dating.
Before we go any further, I should say that he has a wife and three kids, and I'm not trying to weasel my way back into his life or run off into the sunset with him. I'm just trying to explain a few things, and maybe work out some issues. It would be nice to be on speaking terms, but that's not my call.
It was soon after my major op on my leg that we met and started going out. I was the envy of more than one girl at school then. I couldn't believe my luck. He was my first proper boyfriend. Don't get me wrong- I'd had boyfriends before and was no virgin, but he was the first long-term relationship. We spent a lot of time together despite living at opposite ends of the island. We sailed, cycled, walked, swam, we held hands, snuggled and watched movies and I felt like I could do anything with him for the rest of our lives.
The beginning of the long, drawn-out end was in March 1990 when I discovered I was pregnant. I was 17. I had to tell my mother, and she said "You're going to the doctor, and the word you want to use is 'termination'", so that was that. I don't think my dad knows to this day about it. My sister and I were both told that if we came home pregnant and unmarried, we would be chucked out. I don't think they would have to be honest, but at the time it was still a valid threat in my head.
I thought I coped with the termination well, but looking back, I know I didn't. Looking back, I can see that he didn't either, but I was selfish and didn't realise how much it could affect him.
The relationship became very strained in places. He wanted to get engaged. He asked me to marry him. I said yes, but at that point he was living in a bedsit while doing an apprenticeship and I was a college dropout. I wanted diamonds I could see. We couldn't afford it. He pointed out rings, and I said no. He thought I didn't want to be with him. He was wrong, but I couldn't put aside the whole wanting to have the spectacular ring and the big wedding that neither of us could afford. Instead of being happy with what I had, I wanted more, and it killed the relationship. We bickered and fought about nothing. The termination was brought up more than once, and it was not pretty. I loved him, but my big ideas and inflexibility drove a wedge between us.
The fights got physical, but he never harmed me on purpose. His frustrations showed, and I didn't change. We both said things we shouldn't, and I accused him of being violent. If I could go back in time, I would slap my younger self and tell me to get my head out my arse. I had no clue what it was like to be in a violent relationship. The fights I had with PN went both ways and were mostly verbal.
We split up, and he started dating another girl from the island. I was pretty catty about it, and extremely jealous, because she had what I wanted. They're still married, have three children and are coming up to their 25th anniversary soon.
There is a small part of me that is jealous that she has what I wanted, but the older head on my shoulders tells me that it is my own fault that it is the way it is. He is happy, and I don't begrudge him that for one instant.
It was only many years later, when I was having investigations into why I couldn't conceive, that I found out that I couldn't have gone ahead with that pregnancy even if I had defied my mother. The major operation I had in the October of 1989 was too recent. The operation included some major cutting in my groin area to remove glands and access the artery and major veins. If I had gone ahead and tried to have the baby, it would have ripped me apart. It would have turned 24 in September of this year if I'd been able to have it.
I don't have any kids. I was angry and depressed when I was first told that kids were never going to happen naturally for me, and it broke another relationship. Another selfish act of mine because I was so hung up on the kids thing. I felt that I was being punished for throwing that first chance of a baby away, and took it out on my then boyfriend.
IVF was tabled as an option when I was with PB, but he wasn't willing to do anything about it, and there was yet another period of resigning myself to childlessness. The fact that my reproductive system had gone into free-fall by then didn't help matters, and the only real cure was sterilisation, which, while it would cure my heavy, prolonged periods (They were generally more than three months in duration, with a couple of weeks break if I was lucky) would mean definitely no children.
I was supposed to go in for the op in December 2007, the year I left PB. I ended up having it a couple of years back, with a full hysterectomy in January of last year.
The dream the other night brought everything back about how things had gone wrong between PN and me. About how badly I had behaved. How cruel some of the things I said to him were.
I don't know why, but I sent a FaceBook message to PN to apologise for the way I acted and for the things I said. There's nothing I can say or do now that will change the past: all I can do is apologise. I wanted to explain a lot of this to him, but I'm not sure he wants to go back over the past. It's done and he has his family and his life. I'm actually now second-guessing myself over whether I should have messaged him at all: will he see it as me trying to get back into his life with a hollow apology? Does he even care now about something that happened over half a lifetime ago when he was still just a teenager? He has more than likely put it all behind him, got over it, moved on- however you want to put it, and I wouldn't blame him. I was not a nice person to him.
I have often said that I must have done something really bad in a past life to deserve all my bad luck in relationships, my ill health and lack of kids. I don't think it was a different life I did something bad in. It was this one.
PN and I went out together in the late eighties/early nineties. We met when his family moved to the island and he came to the secondary school. I was in sixth year, and despite him being the same age, he was put into fifth year. I can't remember why. I only remember thinking that he was the most gorgeous boy at school. He had the most beautiful smile, and eyes that I could have drowned in. Don't even ask about the body, because he was fit. Very fit.
I'll tell you a little secret- I still have a photo of him in my wallet from when we were dating.
Before we go any further, I should say that he has a wife and three kids, and I'm not trying to weasel my way back into his life or run off into the sunset with him. I'm just trying to explain a few things, and maybe work out some issues. It would be nice to be on speaking terms, but that's not my call.
It was soon after my major op on my leg that we met and started going out. I was the envy of more than one girl at school then. I couldn't believe my luck. He was my first proper boyfriend. Don't get me wrong- I'd had boyfriends before and was no virgin, but he was the first long-term relationship. We spent a lot of time together despite living at opposite ends of the island. We sailed, cycled, walked, swam, we held hands, snuggled and watched movies and I felt like I could do anything with him for the rest of our lives.
The beginning of the long, drawn-out end was in March 1990 when I discovered I was pregnant. I was 17. I had to tell my mother, and she said "You're going to the doctor, and the word you want to use is 'termination'", so that was that. I don't think my dad knows to this day about it. My sister and I were both told that if we came home pregnant and unmarried, we would be chucked out. I don't think they would have to be honest, but at the time it was still a valid threat in my head.
I thought I coped with the termination well, but looking back, I know I didn't. Looking back, I can see that he didn't either, but I was selfish and didn't realise how much it could affect him.
The relationship became very strained in places. He wanted to get engaged. He asked me to marry him. I said yes, but at that point he was living in a bedsit while doing an apprenticeship and I was a college dropout. I wanted diamonds I could see. We couldn't afford it. He pointed out rings, and I said no. He thought I didn't want to be with him. He was wrong, but I couldn't put aside the whole wanting to have the spectacular ring and the big wedding that neither of us could afford. Instead of being happy with what I had, I wanted more, and it killed the relationship. We bickered and fought about nothing. The termination was brought up more than once, and it was not pretty. I loved him, but my big ideas and inflexibility drove a wedge between us.
The fights got physical, but he never harmed me on purpose. His frustrations showed, and I didn't change. We both said things we shouldn't, and I accused him of being violent. If I could go back in time, I would slap my younger self and tell me to get my head out my arse. I had no clue what it was like to be in a violent relationship. The fights I had with PN went both ways and were mostly verbal.
We split up, and he started dating another girl from the island. I was pretty catty about it, and extremely jealous, because she had what I wanted. They're still married, have three children and are coming up to their 25th anniversary soon.
There is a small part of me that is jealous that she has what I wanted, but the older head on my shoulders tells me that it is my own fault that it is the way it is. He is happy, and I don't begrudge him that for one instant.
It was only many years later, when I was having investigations into why I couldn't conceive, that I found out that I couldn't have gone ahead with that pregnancy even if I had defied my mother. The major operation I had in the October of 1989 was too recent. The operation included some major cutting in my groin area to remove glands and access the artery and major veins. If I had gone ahead and tried to have the baby, it would have ripped me apart. It would have turned 24 in September of this year if I'd been able to have it.
I don't have any kids. I was angry and depressed when I was first told that kids were never going to happen naturally for me, and it broke another relationship. Another selfish act of mine because I was so hung up on the kids thing. I felt that I was being punished for throwing that first chance of a baby away, and took it out on my then boyfriend.
IVF was tabled as an option when I was with PB, but he wasn't willing to do anything about it, and there was yet another period of resigning myself to childlessness. The fact that my reproductive system had gone into free-fall by then didn't help matters, and the only real cure was sterilisation, which, while it would cure my heavy, prolonged periods (They were generally more than three months in duration, with a couple of weeks break if I was lucky) would mean definitely no children.
I was supposed to go in for the op in December 2007, the year I left PB. I ended up having it a couple of years back, with a full hysterectomy in January of last year.
The dream the other night brought everything back about how things had gone wrong between PN and me. About how badly I had behaved. How cruel some of the things I said to him were.
I don't know why, but I sent a FaceBook message to PN to apologise for the way I acted and for the things I said. There's nothing I can say or do now that will change the past: all I can do is apologise. I wanted to explain a lot of this to him, but I'm not sure he wants to go back over the past. It's done and he has his family and his life. I'm actually now second-guessing myself over whether I should have messaged him at all: will he see it as me trying to get back into his life with a hollow apology? Does he even care now about something that happened over half a lifetime ago when he was still just a teenager? He has more than likely put it all behind him, got over it, moved on- however you want to put it, and I wouldn't blame him. I was not a nice person to him.
I have often said that I must have done something really bad in a past life to deserve all my bad luck in relationships, my ill health and lack of kids. I don't think it was a different life I did something bad in. It was this one.
posted by Me at 1:27 am
1 Comments:
I was just clicking through blogs and saw this post. You have faced a lot and I think it took courage to write a letter of apology. Don't think that bad things happened to you because you did something really bad. Bad things happen to good people. Take courage and be strong. Life goes on...
Post a Comment
<< Home