When did it happen, when did it all change? Something I�ve asked myself so many times over the past few months. Somehow something in my psyche has shifted, and yet I�m more myself than I�ve ever been. Doesn�t that sound ridiculous, contrived, perhaps even clich�. But it�s true, and it�s not what you think, it isn�t love that has done this to me. No, I correct myself, it isn�t the love you think, that of a man. Sure that has been the constant, the longing and the need, the unfulfilled and yet the only thing to sustain me � my relationship with him. So fragile and yet the firmest base I have in my life. But that isn�t what has changed my outlook so dramatically. Perhaps I�m not making sense, I suppose I should go back to the place you left us. Right so he returns on bended knee � is that what you wanted? He sent me roses and chocolates and love cards to show his adoration. Or how about begging me time and time again to forgive his behaviour? But no none of those things happened, the story isn�t for us to pick and choose and play around with but simply to tell as best as we can.
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��please June let�s just try.�
�How?�
�Just slowly, see how it all goes, do what we didn�t before � go on dates like normal people before we start sleeping together and moving in. I rushed it all before, I don�t want to mess it up again. I don�t want to beg but I will if I have to� what do you think?�
What was I supposed to say? Fall on my knees in tears and cry gratefully to the Lord that he wanted me back? I considered it for a second, but I kept my resolve and lifted my chin defiantly.
�Why should we put each other through it again � when we�re just starting to sort ourselves out?�
�Because I�m not sorting myself out � I need you, I miss you so much.� He reached out for my hands but if I touched me my decision would be made for me.
�I can�t do this now Jim, I need more time to think. Everything�s such a mess at the moment, what with the kids being here and travelling back and forth from my brother�s house. My mind�s not clear enough to deal with us � just not right now.�
Could I even hear what I was saying to him?
�Okay, okay.� He ran his hand roughly through his hair. �But at least let me be there for you, when you need to talk about things, don�t bottle it all up.�
Oh the ever considerate Jim.
Alright so we�ll start with him. Where else would you expect me to begin but there? Dear dear Jim, shall I talk about how long I�d been attracted to him, how if I wasn�t such a fool when younger I would have made a move back then. But he always seemed so much younger than me and innocent and na�ve, untouchable, like I would have ruined him if I�d attempted to have a relationship with him. The misjudgements you can make, thinking that perhaps love is sex and vice versa. And every woman knows that you don�t always go for the �nice guys�, far too simple right. Yet things can alter so much over the years. But I�m going to far back, the story doesn�t need to start there you already know all that history.
*
Right so I agreed to have him back in my life, a friend, a confidant, a companion. Besides what did I know about the way I felt, that I was in love with him was evident, that I could cope with that depth of that love, survive it, grow with it and not let it destroy me. And I mean �me� as in who I really am, my soul, my being, not tied to him implicitly like I was heading for. I am an individual, as he is, and I couldn�t lose sight of that again, or allow myself to be dragged down by worries over losing his love. Life doesn�t work that way. It doesn�t plan, it just exists, we either choose to fight against that and struggle or we sit back nice and calm and glide along with it.
Now I can�t tell you what�s around the corner, I certainly can�t claim to be an all-knowing answer to everything type person � because I�m not. But I have learnt that when something feels right nobody can take that away from you, you must decide to accept and let it lead you wherever it wishes to go. In fact it�s taken me a long time to understand that one. I don�t know what the future hasn�t already been written but I choose to believe that I control what happens to me and I can change things as and when I want to. The downfall with that is that I am the only one who can be held responsible for my mistakes. As for the past, well who can tell whether you�re giving an accurate description of that or not? Undoubtedly the past is as much a part of the present as I am now, sitting here, retelling this to you. It is tied to us, it determines who we are, and yet in a way we determine it because it is we who tell the story of the past. We forget names and faces, times and places. The scent of the air when a particular event took place, we use bits, we take away, so is this past nothing but our distorted minds playing with history?
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Hmm I�m losing track again. So back to where I started, dating again, a strange concept for any woman over 45 years old. But to be picked up at your door by a man you�ve known twenty years, one you were making love to a few months before � well it�s enough to make you philosophical! We went along like that, restaurants and long walks, and then more restaurants and walking until our feet were sore. One of the most memorable evenings we spent was at the cinema, laugh as you might, but it had been a while since I�d been there. But there we sat in the darkness, something oddly intimate about it even though strangers surround you. My arm on the rest, his on his knee, closing then opening the fist, slowly, wanting to get closer. After an hour or so my body gave in and slid down into the seat, comfortable and warm next to him, my head resting on his shoulder. And his hand hesitantly reached over and touched my fingers, closing over them and resting there, content to appreciate the texture of my skin again I suppose. How we take these things for granted when together, how I missed it when apart. I know what you�re expecting � that I took him home and promptly made love to him, but you would be wrong. Just because I dived on in the first time doesn�t mean I would be as willing now � too much had happened.
*
We played around the issue for what seems an eternity now. It wasn�t actually, a few weeks of chaste kisses that lasted a few seconds longer than they should have. Hand holding while we walked now, but so much to talk about � which struck me as odd, still does in fact. We can know each other for so long and even live together and break up and still go round and come back together and there remain things to be said. Trivial meaningless things, funny, often hilarious moments and terribly deep conversations. Our worries about things we had witnessed on the news or at work. You see things on the television and somehow you neglect to realise how close you are to it, bound to it, easier to draw a line I suppose. Then I invited him in for a coffee one night, and we never even made it to the kitchen. Kissing inside the front door, leaning against the wall. Then into the lounge, on the sofa, his hands removing my jacket and we were right back at that stage, couldn�t get enough of each other� but it didn�t go that far! We just held each other, just kissed, but believe me when I say I don�t recall ever being kissed that way. Delicious. His fingers sneaking up my top circling my waist, holding me to him. He smelt so good, I remember that, a mixture of his skin, that musky scent you get, sweat and sex and salty to taste, endlessly drawing you in. Then the cologne on his shirt collar, juxtaposed to the masculinity, slightly sweet.
I guess he felt the same, his face buried in my hair as he breathed me in. It certainly aroused him anyhow� but then that was never a problem we experienced! I knew if we went any further that would be it, he would be here for the night, I was gasping for air as it was, clawing at his clothes. Somehow he recovered enough self control to pull himself away, and we to the kitchen and made coffee and sat at the kitchen table to drink it, talking about the relationships going on at work and exchanging polite smiles and not even commenting on the flush down my neck and across my chest, or the mess I�d made of his hair. Though he did calmly duck into the lounge before leaving to retrieve his tie.
How these things make me laugh now, dancing around the core of our relationship again� again and again like two children playing for power. When all the time we had no need to because we wanted the same thing, longed for it in fact � that someone, each other, all the time needing each other. So it all came to a head one weekend, I was planning on going to see my brother for a few days, see how he and Louisa were getting on, offer my support. And for some strange reason I invited Jim along, for company on the car journey you understand � nothing more!
�And when the broken hearted people living in the world agree, there will be an answer let it be. Although they may be parted there is still a chance that they will see, there will be an answer � let it be.�