THAT CONVERSATION

It was back in September last year that I decided to bite the bullet and speak to John. There was no point dragging it out – in fact it was unfair.

It was a Sunday and he had come round early in the day to get some things for his photography job. When he got back we ended up talking about who he’d told that we had separated. He said practically everyone and he had told everyone it was his fault.

That really surprised me. I didn’t expect him to admit fault at all. If anything, I expected him to blame me. It made me look at him in a different light.

He asked if I wanted to work things out and I said we would talk later when the children were watching tv so we knew they wouldn’t be eavesdropping.

A little later when the little people were too engrossed in their programme to even notice I’d entered the room, I asked John to join me in what was our bedroom. We sat on the bed and I told him I didn’t want to continue with our marriage. He said ‘OK’ matter-of-factly, just as I expected he would and immediately started talking about what we would do with the family home. He was cold and harsh – the John I’m used to when things don’t go his way. He insisted he would not be paying for the home if he wasn’t living there so I would have to either buy him out or we would have to sell and split the money. I didn’t press him on it as I know what he’s like when he gets like that. He wasn’t capable in that moment of discussing things calmly. He told me to give him a figure for the kids and that’s what he would pay.

He then got up and left the room.

I felt sick. I knew it would be like that but the reality was so much more brutal.

As I tried to collect my thoughts and shakily messaged my brother, John came back into the doorway. I can’t even remember what he said but he was having a go at me about something I’d said. He didn’t wait for a response – just walked away. He did that again and again, I can’t recall which bit of my little speech bugged him but it did and he had to share it with me.

The third time he came back, he pushed the door closed behind him and sat on the bed. He took my hands in his and he told me how sorry he was. He told me he gotit now – that he should have made me the centre of his universe and he was angry that he wouldn’t get to show me now. He said he was full of regret and he was making changes but he needed time for me to see them in action. I cried silently. The tears were for how crap the whole situation was/is; for how harsh he was to begin with and for how soft he was now being in that moment.

My head was whirling.

He asked for a hug and we sat there, arms around each other for several minutes, him whispering he was sorry again.

We eventually released and he asked if I still fancy him. I said ‘no’ – he was even more deflated. I mentioned my admirer and how he had made me think – that of course anyone in a relationship wants to be desired by the person they are with. I said I just don’t feel that way about him anymore and he deserves to have someone feel that way about him.  I explained that over the years, when I look at him I can’t think ‘he’s hot’ because all I see is hurt, betrayal and mistrust. He nodded and said he gets it.

It was an excruciating conversation but it was a conversation where I was honest and open.

Before leaving, John asked what he could do to get me to change my mind.

“I will do anything” he said.

I shook my head.

We hugged again and he left.