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I am back in London and finding it hard to get into work mode. I feel myself snapping at people. they either don't notice, or they forgive me (they know I've got a funeral coming up -they probably think it s that). I send H a couple of messages a day, like I have always done -nothing heavy or deep just, "Hi, I am here at the moment, how are the boys?" sort of message, but he doesn't respond. I feel him slipping away from me more and more -like fading...the problem is that I also feel my children slipping. With no/limited contact from H I now realise I've stopped getting the regular news I'd become used to getting via him. "We've been there. We've done that. Big boy's being a pain. Small boy's been rude..." these little daily facts that made me feel connected to them -like I was there because through them I could completely picture the boys and imagine the scene. Now they're on school holidays, and I don't even know if they came to London for the film they wanted to see. I did ask H, but he didn't reply. THAT is what I don't want. I am not ready for that. Whatever H says I've been full part of their lives since they were born and I intend to stay that way for ever... well let s say until they leave home. Dear oh dear... the plot thickens:- if H doesn't love me any longer (and I don't him) but I do not want to leave the children, there's only one alternative:- stay together or go to court. If the former, will we ever be happy? If the latter, what if I don't win custody? and will the children hate me all the more for having tried and failed.
Before I go completely mad, I meet up with my BF for dinner. Amazing how much I feel i need to overcome the shame of failure even when speaking with him! Thankfully he doesn't speak to me like that:- instead he's supportive and sympathetic. He even makes me laugh when he says he'd assumed H had finally decided to come out! (and then I panick:- god maybe that's it?!?)
I get back home late enough to miss H (he's often in bed by 10 anyway... another incompatibility of ours!) but early enough to see the boys, which is so nice. I try not to hug them too hard and not to tell them too many times how much I love them for fear of alarming them and more simply, breaking down in front of them. I watch late TV with Small Boy. Then off to Bed... dreading the funeral tomorrow.
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