Gentle aching misery

There is a deep seated misery in me tonight. A sadness that cannot be assuaged by blithe words or platitudes. I mourn.

Tonight I mourn the loss of so many things.

I mourn the family life we should have had, if He-Ex had been up to it. The death of those dreams is something I grieve for every now and again. Not because I wouldn't want to be where I am, but because of what our choices put the AC through. He is fine, he is well balanced, he is happy, and he is yet another child with two homes, yet another child for whom time is negotiated.

I mourn the loss of so many things.

I mourn the children that have been lost. The babies, toddles and young men and women who should be ready to face the world, and instead just never made it past the hope of a realised dream stage. I mourn their would have beens, their could have beens, and the may never be's that now, at my age, are raising their heads.

I mourn the loss of so many things.

I mourn for Tim, whilst cherishing Joe, for the catness that was. Our pets are not just pets, to be loved and lost, replaced or disregarded, they are family, they are as much a loss as an elderly relation, glad to see them out of pain, celebrating the life they had, and mourning the loss of a bright spark in Earths fire.

I mourn the loss of so many things.

I mourn the relationship I had with BG, the trust I had in the She-Ex, the understanding I had with He-Ex, the easy life I had on base.

I mourn for R, for the life he had with BG. For the happiness he had with the She-Ex, because he did and it was there, until it was destroyed. I mourn for the dreams he had.

But.

There comes a time when I must stop indulging myself with mournfulness, and wake myself up. I need to make a cup of tea, settle myself, and pause to think of the lovely things.

They do not destroy the achingness of a mournful heart, they cannot heal the gap left by a child's life, in whatever form that took. Oh yes, we may have it all "apart from" children who are missing for both of us. That counts, for us, more than things.

But things can make the loss more covered, keep one more busy, stop one wondering and thinking and wishing and dreaming. And so moments like this, just to sit and dream, are ideal.

Don't blame it on the sunshine....

.... no, don't worry, it's not some Michael Jackson tribute.

Yes, I'm sad for his children that they will grow up fatherless - no child would want that.
Yes, I'm sad for his mother that she has lost her son.
Am I traumatised because the "King of Pop" has died? Nope. He wasn't the King of Pop for me, and I didn't like a lot of his music. I know that's practically blasphemy these days, but there we go.

Nope, not Michael Jackson, but weather.

We're currently running 26degC days here. I suppose that's around 78-80 deg F, in the shade. It's hot. And we're English. The English like to talk about weather. It's very hot. And due to rain on Friday.

Friday. As in tomorrow. Now that will be lovely, except for one minor thing. We shall be in Thetford Forest on school trip. Potentially in thunderstorms. Are we dismayed? NOPE!

Are we tired and achy already and haven't even done the Thetford Trip? Oh yeah! lol. Never mind. The children love it, and usually I love going, it's just the left over chicken pox stuff that's getting me. It's all good. Really.

This week is a weird week in many ways. Four years ago it marked the start of the difficult times for R and I with our ex's, but in a way marked the start of our releases from the poisonous relationships we were in. But four years later, we're both very happy, and work hard on *this* relationship to never let it get rotten like those ones did.

And let's face it, as the She-Ex put it "Apart from R not having BG, your lives are pretty damn spiffy!" (Still never had an apology for that piece of crass compassionless inhumanity.

We do have good lives, except he's away right now, and I want him home. I *want* him home! But I have had texts and so on, and told him everything here is fine and so on. What else is there to tell him? lol.