5th May 09
I was just looking something up, and I came across this day.
It was an ordinary day, nothing spectacular happened.
Rich was on earlies, I was writing reports, I wrote up what we did at the weekend, with pictures, I wrote about how much we loved each other and how that worked for us.
I'd been listening to music, and thinking about how I used to play a Tom Jones track when I thought about him - Help me make it through the night. It's a wonderful song, and I wrote about how we did that for each other, with just being us.
That paragraph was...
And that was how it was. We were just there to make it through another night of heartache and confusion. I made the tea and toast. He ate it. We stared at the tv, curled in our own thoughts, or we talked and talked and talked, sat outside in the dark whilst he smoked. We just were together, in a way we had never been with our old partners, or at least not for the longest time. We listened to each other, because we were never the ones being listened to before. We loved and cared and shared and opened up in the ways we had to, to be totally one with the other, and to make it through the night. There was no need for martyrdom, nor for exaggeration and pretense, no need for stories and lies, there was just us, with the naked truth, (though not the naked bodies as some would have the world believe!) and cups of tea.
I miss that. I miss it so much. I want to sit and talk in the dark with him, or sit on the sofa not talking. I want to sit on the back step, lean on the landy, crack open a beer for him and hear him tell me I'll make someone happy one day, and he'll be a lucky chap. I want to tell him the things on my mind, and hear him listening to me, not talking over me, not dismissing me - he never did that.
I want to listen to him, I want to know what's going on in his head, and he always told me. We knew all we needed to know about each other - people who didn't meet until they were 30 never know all there is to know about each other, and that's lovely too, because there are always stories to tell.
I just needed to look at this most normal of days, and see that this was our normal life. It was love, and laughter, and work, and just being together. Just being together.
And when I looked back again, I found this. Same day.
The woman at the tool stand said "You going help Daddy with the wheels then?" and AC just said "Yes!" R looked at me, looked at him, and said, "Well, come on then son." and off they went. All this 'step' business is for numpties apparently!
AC talked to me the other day about how lucky he was to have a normal Father, and R, who is more like a Daddy. And apparently the best Mummy in the World!
They had each other, in the way they wanted each other. As family, straightforward, together, loving each other. Blood wasn't important to them, they love each other and always will.
Bloody hell I miss him.