I thought we had something special. I felt I had helped you get back on your feet getting into good housing away from your grotty flat, helping you get back into employment more than once, buying you a car and providing the “settling influence” that meant your daughters remained with you. I thought we had enjoyed fun times together in all our years together in England and during the French adventure. I thought we were a team and on the same side. I believed you loved me and our children.
There were things we struggled with along the way. Money was often an issue as we lurched from one fixed-term contract to another having chosen to try and help people in the charity sector. You know I didn’t like you borrowing my bank card and then neglecting to hand it back. I hated walking into rooms and finding you on pornography sites and the fact you did not take care to hide that from our innocent children. It was a bolt from the blue to discover you had signed up to a dating site eleven years into our relationship. I can never know if it was just “boredom” as you claim or whether you were looking for someone or met someone. Nor can I know how early in our relationship you joined dating sites. What I do know is that these things dismantled my self-esteem or I let them. I fully recognise that a lot of people use porn and dating sites. I often think I am out of step with the world and its ways.
All I ever really wanted relationships wise was a trusting and supportive family life like my mum and dad created.
Of course, I want to thank you for getting me over a relationship breakdown, your company, the laughs, the fun times, the very many lifts in the car and most of all our amazing 3 children. How you live without them I don’t know. You clearly do carrying on with your job and enjoying a social life out there living the French dream that I wanted and created for at least a little while.
As the years went by, it seemed you wanted to converse with me and the children less and less. In our last 2 years together, you got increasingly shouty and sweary, throwing things and scaring me and the kids. You no longer wanted to sleep in the same room as me saying you did not want to disturb me with your scratching of your psoriasis – odd that as I had lived quite happily with that for 20 years.
Now over 20 years later, I find myself on my own with you having absented yourself from mine and our children’s lives. You remain in secure housing in a lovely community with friends and a job. I am living on the charity of someone which is not comfortable at all. Yes, I am fortunate to have a roof over my head but it isn’t home. Yes you pay the maintenance for the children at just over the amount you would have to pay if I went down the official route. It is shocking to see you not sending presents for the children at Christmas. I just don’t get it. I guess cigarettes, two dimensional images of women and booze will always be the priorities for you. I am sad and lost a lot of the time. I wonder what I did so horrifically wrong for you to turn on me and discard me. I ask and you won’t explain. You lay the blame on me and tell me the therapy I am getting now is clearly not working. I find that cruel. It is brave to seek help.
I tried. I failed. And as they say on that telly programme Love Island that presumably with all the flesh is right up your street, “It is what it is!”