A sad

I had grand plans to spend the evening cooking and doing laundry. Instead, I spent it eating cheese on toast and watching TV in a weepy heap.

I miss H. It’s horrible. I loved him so much.

I loved him enough to bundle away my writery ambitions and get a proper job, so he didn’t have to feel conflicted about supporting me, and so we could save money – he always wanted a house of his own (neither of us were to know the housing market would go batshit insane. Heigh ho). I didn’t care so much about property, but I couldn’t in all conscience base my plans for lentil-eating garret-dwelling poeting on his earning power. I had to contribute. I got a proper job. (Thank fuck I did [Irony Claxon]).

And then we tried for babies. I swear, I would never have kept on trying so long so hard if H hadn’t been adamant that he also wanted children. Yes, I wanted children very much, I really did, or I wouldn’t’ve gone along with it all. But I wanted my child to have what I never had – a father. A real one, who stayed, and who would do nappies and 3am sheet-changes and colic and maths homework and who would love them and love me and put us first. Unlike my own father. Unlike my step-father.

I thought H was doing what I was doing. Putting us first. Putting our future child, should we finally have one, first. Putting me, if not first, then at least up there with ‘important’ and ‘beloved’.

And he didn’t. Maybe he couldn’t. But then he should’ve told me he couldn’t love me like that before agreeing to marry me. He should’ve told me when he first found he was carrying Velociraptor eggs home in his pocket. He should’ve trusted me. Instead, he took advantage of the fact I trusted him.

I am being unbelievably fucking petty at the moment, because H is slowly getting round to telling his family and close friends about Divorce Because Velociraptors, and they are being supportive of him. Of course they should be, he’s family, and he is clearly very depressed and fucked-up and needs all the support he can get. But – I told you this was petty – my family are all about the ‘you’ll be fine, May! You’re brave and strong and resilient and this will be the making of you!’. While worrying that H will be having a ghastly time.

What about my ghastly time, you bastards? H asked to have a ghastly time, literally asked, taking foolish risks as he did. I did not ask. I felt I’d already had a ghastly time, thank you, quite sufficient for the time being. My baby died. For the tenth time in a row. I nearly died. That was ghastly. Being caught arsing about with Velociraptors is not actually in the same league. And yet I am ‘resilient and fine and fine and this is the best thing ever for me’ and poor H is having a ‘ghastly time’ and needs people to stand by him. The innocent and righteously indignant victim is never as knee-jerk attractive and sympathetic as the repentant sad-eyed kicked-puppy bad boy.

At least no one has said I ought to stand by him. Because fuck that noise.

27 responses to “A sad

  • QoB


    *fetches May whatever she may require in the form of hot and/or alcoholic liquids; sweet or savoury treats; trashy TV; or Items Not Otherwise Specified*

    (I think you’re entitled to Petty, indeed and yes I do)

  • chon

    I would be petty. I would be mean and nasty. I wouldn’t be able to help myself. The thing about infertility is we CAN’T control this shit but velociraptors , we can control that. I am in an angry mood today. Happy to take it out on H for you.

  • starrhillgirl

    Oh, yes. The “you’re so brave/strong” and “it’s all for the best” bullshit. Cold comfort, that’s what that is.
    Hang tight, my friend. Just hang tight.

  • mfamama

    You’re a better woman than I. I would have burned everything he cared about by now.

  • blackbirdofpeace

    You deserve to have all the panic attacks, and also all the support. Once you’re used to having a partner to help shoulder the endless mundane tasks, the thought of facing life without that is frankly terrifying, it has nothing to do with how strong you are or otherwise. And on top of that is the sudden betrayal of realizing that the marriage you thought was rock-solid was…not. And your family each deserve a heartfelt wallop with a pool noodle for being unable or unwilling by reason of self-absorption to realize that. It is not some trial of purification, it’s your life falling apart in increasingly harrowing ways. I’m so sorry.

  • Betty M

    I bloody well hope that amongst all the sympathy he is getting he is also getting an extremely serious telling off for being such a blithering velociraptor bothering idiot and treating you so badly. I don’t doubt that you are brave and resilient but you need the sympathy and support way more than he. Anyway we have your back May.

  • Carole

    Oh my dear. Not for the first time I wish I could administer some sharp WTF smacks round the head to your family. They should be standing round you like a roman shield wall; any fool should know that’s it’s far too early for all that “It’ll be the making of you” stuff. Although from what you have said in the past, it seems that most of them seem incapable of maintaining a relationship, so presumably they think everyone has to have the emotional depth of a puddle and be able to divorce without breaking stride. And if H is not getting a good bollocking from someone, then his family are doing him a disservice as well. It’s that sort of behavior that makes a dinosaur owner in the first place. Sod the lot of them.

    You are a better person than all of them. That COUNTS. It doesn’t feel like it right now, I’m sure, but it’s still true. Things WILL get better. Hold on.

  • Valery Valentina

    If only he had kicked a puppy there’d be a screaming mob outside the house. Possibly armed forces. And nobody would dare blame the victim.
    I hope your family can be convinced to lend a shoulder to cry on first now. and hold off on ‘the making of you’.
    Did you have time to consider what pills you can take now to make sure there will be no sharks to attack you? Because another shark week on top of all this might be unbearable?
    thinking of you.

  • Dr Spouse

    This is why I keep tissues in my desk drawer…

  • Mina

    The problem with being ‘strong’, and ‘resilient’, and ‘able to pick oneself up off the ground’ is the fucking BUT that comes after anyone utters that, and which is always in favour of the fucker who knocked that person down, and then kicked a bit for good measure, while at the same time completely ignoring the ‘strong’ person.
    “Yes, you are right, May, he was awful for meddling in with velociraptors, BUT look at him, poor H, he is so hurting right now… How will he ever get back to his normal self? Oh, don’t worry, YOU’ll be just fine, you’re the strong one, you’ll burry us all, and get to write about it.”
    Even when you share your pain and agony, most look at you with disbelief in their eyes “Are you positively sure you are hurting right now?! Because you don’t show it. Boy, you ARE strong and resilient. If anyone can take the good out of this shite, you’re the one, May. It’s a good thing, honestly, that it happened to YOU, anyone else would have been floored. But you’ll be fiiiiine, don’t worry, you’ll see, everything will turn out just fine for you, it always usually does, doesn’t it.” And I bet there are even longer variants of the core meaning ‘Shut the fuck up’, aren’t there?
    To quote a prior comment, sod the lot. Hard.
    I can’t imagine how hard it is for you, mourning your love and dreams and hopes while still sharing the flat with H, physically stuck with all those reminders poking at your wounds. Terribly awful.
    You should do whatever you feel like doing these days. Laundry can fuck itself on its own, there are always cheap knickers on offer if you run out of clean ones. Cooking is meant to be savoured, you are in no mood to savour anything, so junk it is. Telly can numb your mind and distract you from the velociraptor aftermath. Make sure you’ve got enough batteries in your remote, getting up to zap through channels is a bother and defies the purpose of zapping. This is survival mode. When the time comes to take action and move forward, you will know it and will be unable to ignore it. Until then, survive, dear.
    And just so you know, I’d buy anything you wrote. So write.

  • Amy

    My liking this post is for agreement, not that the bastards are seemingly too simple to realize that while, yes, you will be fine (eventually – NOT NOW) and you are resilient and all, that doesn’t mean your ghastly time is not every bit as awful as H’s (it’s worse, as you’ve already clearly explained, because INNOCENT). Who the fuck is helped by their saying those things? THEMSELVES. They are being awful. You can’t wipe out someone’s pain with some trite encouragement, no matter how much you’d like it to be so for your own comfort/convenience. Fuck that noise, too. Sorry for all the caps-locky, too, but….FUCK.

  • Bachelor's Button

    You know something? I really hate it when people don’t ‘take sides’ when one party is clearly innocent and another downright Wrong. I also hate the ‘it will make you stronger” line. ‘Wiser, more aware of the ghastlier side of life, harder, more experienced’ yes, but ‘stronger’ – ? No, that’s a nonsense. And frankly who needs these miserable happenings to make us aware of the ghastlier side of life anyway? I didn’t. I’m not stronger because of my 7 miscarriages and my two dead prem babies! But people like to tell me that I am. Or that I will be. No, I’m just older, with a big box of sad inside that I occasionally allow to open up. That’s all. You will feel and be as you will feel and be May.

    • Anonymous

      Hugs to May and hugs to Bachelor’s Button for all that you have lost, and for all that has been misunderstood.

  • Melissa

    You are so thoroughly entitled to much more that petty! And the sympathy should be for YOU, you were lied to and mislead and whatever else involved in the V-raptor. WHAT are family THINKING, pitying H over May? Poor pitiful H while May is the one who’s life is torn to shreds, poor GUILTRIDDEN H?? He has reason to feel guilty and no one should feel sorry for that, at least not to this extent! What you have been through is so far beyond–ARGH it’s just entirely unfair. Feel how you need to and if it helps, let it all go in front of this family that says you need to be so damn strong. You be what YOU NEED TO BE. Fall apart dear, if you need to. No one needs to insist you be strong.

  • ks

    Oh my heart just breaks. I’m so sorry and so sad that this is all happening to you. And yes you have every right to feel the way you do. Screw ‘H’! He did this to himself. He is not getting one ounce of my pity. If you don’t like the fall out from your actions, maybe you should rethink your choices Mr. H!
    And I know your heart hurts as you still love him so. This is going to take time. You are grieving now. You deserve to have this time to yourself to fall apart and feel the things you are feeling. Anyone who doesn’t thinks so can go take a piss!
    Sending you warm hugs from across the ocean!

  • Jenny

    Can someone explain how that’s petty? I don’t get it. It seems nonpetty, nontrivial, really deep and important to me. Unless you had very odd wedding vows, H promised you some version of loving you like that, and then welshed on it, all over town. He betrayed you and broke his promises, and you didn’t, and people are more concerned about his pain than about yours. I truly don’t understand affixing that with the label “petty.” To me, it seems like a deep misunderstanding of the situation.

  • a

    Ha! This is how the world works, my dear. Be strong and responsible, and people assume you don’t need sympathy or help. Do a good job and keep up with things at work and you will be rewarded…with more work. Take care of everyone else, and find that no one worries about taking care of you. The lazy have it made in this life – everyone rushes to cope for them since they can’t cope for themselves. (You’re not the only one Bitter McTwisted visits, obviously.)

    But here, here’s where you can get your sympathy and support (and annoyances too sometimes). We can’t actually pat your back and hug you and make your tea, but we can all listen (read) and hold the right people accountable. I’ve said before – I have some slight sympathy for H’s loss of the good things in his life, but he should have known better than to bring velociraptors home with him. It is his own fault, and you should be getting all the sympathy.

    Not that it excuses them, but you may have mentioned that your family tends to keep dinosaurs themselves – that’s probably where the sympathy for H is coming from. If it were me, I would probably gather them all together and throw the most massive tantrum about their behavior that they have ever seen…

  • twangy

    I’ll ghastly-time them! Humph. They need a manual, or their circuits rewiring, or something drastic, because they are just so wrong.

    Many hugs, May.

  • wombattwo

    Anything I could say sounds so woefully inadequate, but I am here, listening.
    Manymanymany hugs to you.

  • sheila

    I’m torn between drowning you in hugs and attacking the relatives with large sticks….

    But mostly what Mina said about doing what the fuck you like.

  • Moira

    Here, listening, holding hand and giving hugs x

  • chickenpig

    I would stand in line and pay to read anything you write. And that is saying a lot, because I bought a Kindle so I don’t have to wait or pay very much.

    H can suck it. I don’t know the nature of his velociraptor problem, and I don’t care. You just don’t treat the people you love this way. If he had any decency he would pack his bags and leave you in peace. Times like this made me wish I practiced voodoo.

  • korechronicles

    I only ‘know’ your family through what you have written about them and I have read over the years but, if I had been writing the script for how they would behave towards you under the circumstances, I’d have been pretty close to the reality. You could have come through the Battle of Waterloo, popped your head above the parapet, bleeding, battered, and barely alive and your family would be all…”So there you are May, dear. You do look well. Let’s go for coffee and cake. By the way, how are the French recovering?”

    Dearest May, it’s not at all petty to want your tribe to (a) recognise your need for support and (b) give it. Especially when you are overwhelmed by grief, anxiety, self doubt and exhaustion. They have a view of you as strong and unbeaten, probably so they can feel proud of the great job they have done in raising someone who is an adult and can cope, despite the shit that they and the universe has thrown your way.

    No matter the reasons, their flint-heartedness is their problem. Yours is to find the courage from within your shattered self to say to them, without equivocation…”When you keep telling me I’m strong and will be fine, while feeling sorry for H, you’re depriving me of the love, support and sympathy I desperately need from you, and I want you to stop.” Or, more simply, “Sharing your sympathy for H is hurting me, and I want you to stop.” Then tell them exactly how you do want them to support you.

    The thing is we don’t have glass heads. Which given my penchant for mental bad language, is a good thing. But it does mean we are guessing 100% of the time when we are dealing with others, no matter how close the ties. Some people are better at guessing right than others, and there are simple things we can all do in support no matter the circumstances. But for the really, really bad guessers (hello, family of May), you need to be clear and specific, to have any chance of getting through.

    Everyone above has given such good and helpful advice. Be really gentle with your hurt and broken self. Thinking of you and sending virtual tea and chocolate. I only wish I could turn up on your doorstep with the real thing.

  • j

    Dear May –I wish you all the trashy TV and tasty toast and tea you could ever hope for. The inner grandmother in me wonders how you are coping physically. Are you sleeping better? Are the migraines at bay? Is shark week contained at last? And how are you getting on with those blasted compression socks these days??? And the inner warrior in me would very much like to kick your roommate to the cold, cold, curb where he and his velociraptors belong. Can’t one of his sympathetic velociraptor-friendly family members/friends find him a couch, for fuck’s sake, and leave you in peace during the transition?

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