Do not stick to the Wrong Man
Some men are murderers
Some men are murderers, I have been aware of abuse that for a long time. Civilized men do not murder their wife they murder Love. They deny mutual attraction, the evidence of joy and fun together, they deny getting along and long conversations, they deny happiness together. The single man sacred status and no-commitment Ideology leads them to deny happiness when they meet it. It would be easier if a man could say « I met someone else, sorry » or « I love you but I need space » « . But men don’t do that. They make promises. They do not keep their promises, then... They classify you as a cold case without a word of explanation. Or they insist that they still want you but « we must part ». Why? They do not say. Three years is when they have reached the dangerous breakpoint when an affair is more than an affair and they have to admit it. « L’amour dure trois ans » wrote our once famous fierce bachelor writer now happily married , Frédéric Beigbeder. Three years you have to take some kind of action.
I visited Paradise and I am back in Hell. Paradise is waking up with someone you love, watch the smile on his face. Then he is reaching for you before the morning tea and it is great for both. Except with you it is back and forth, one day in Paradise and the next one in Hell.
Why do I stick to the wrong man?
A life without you makes no sense. I know I should look for Mr. Right but I don’t. I should I meet a mature millionaire, or a climate activist or a University professor preferably from Oxford. An evolutionary biologist that also could be a good choice when he is also a best-selling author. Reading an interview of Richard Dawkins by Judith Woods in The Telegraph gave me a hint of what could me « the right man » »At the age of 82 he is about to fly to theUS for a conference ».He is in a »combative mood » says the article. Well I lost my combative mood. I gave up convincing you and convincing the world. I used to be such a fighter to cross the border in Covid times. Now that we are free from restrictions, I keep thinking of all the trips we could do together in England. Why cant’t we visit Ascott House in Buckinghamshire, and the Rothschild family fine arts. Why can’t we take Gardening lessons in Ireland. Or visit Alexandra Tolstoy’s enchanting cottage in the Oxfordshire countryside. When are you going to use your passport and come to Lisbon with me? We are invited to Pays Basque, Biarritz, Bordeaux. But what can I expect from a man who refuses to get out of his house.
Though I must confess that going to Tesco with you was always an exciting adventure or driving in english countryside or eat Fish an Chips facing the sea. Having a beer at the Village Pub or walking through the woods and collecting berries at the end of summer. Cooking with you in spite of you grumbling and wanting everything cooked in your own way.
And now it is time for beige life
When I met you I was self-confident, I liked my life, my house, my garden, my friends. I felt comfortable with my looks, my body, I felt charming and a woman. I was a fighter. You were a rebel. We were well assorted I thought. We were forever young. You are the one who made me feel young, and now you are the one who makes me feel old. You killed me, you killed ma joie de vivre, I am losing my hair you liked so much, losing my life. No darling, I am not « back to normal » as you say. Coming back to France and leaving you abroad is such a wrong choice. I am back to beige life. Ready to be an old lady. Watching television to keep me company. A daily trip to the local shop will be the only interaction.
Separation leads to isolation which leads to depression. What is depression? You are at the bottom of an deep hole and have no desire to get out. People send you ladders but you have no desire to climb. I remember when my depression started. Just after sending me back homeI got an email from you “ I miss you, there I have said it”. So you reluctantly wrote an email « I miss you” a confession which was obviously bruising your ego.I know you miss me. I miss you too. I shall stay forever convinced that we are soulmates. I cannot live without you, you cannot live without me. You will never admit it, that’s all.
Leave the Wrong Man, look for Mr.Right
You kept up separated, but you still wanted to be in my life, acting like a stalker, comments on my Facebook page and following me on every social media. I blocked you on every app.I applied the “no contact” rule, but you started to chase me, just another game to trap me. I hate your muxed messages “I love you still, I never stopped”. OK, let’s find a way to check in real life? Then again you invented some kind of crazy reason not to meet now. You had to concentrate selling your house and buying a bigger one for us. You started sending me suggestions of 6 bedrooms house though I answered it was unlikely we could have children at our age. That’s when I ceased to believe in « us ». You are a dreamer. I realized that your fear of love is stronger than your love. Though your letters were signed « Love will win » I knew that Love could never win with someone like you. I do not blame you, I blame myself for putting so much energy in a lost cause and staying so long with the wrong man.
Mr Wrong will soon be back to his quiet life playing yukulele and badmington in his clubs, slowly fading away was his plan. Today I just got a message from Philip «I believe in relationships in a new place together…or living apart two weeks and together two weeks » So simple ! He could be Mr Right, who knows…
PS Conde Nast Traveler and House and Garden thanks for travel tips
