As if that could be enough to stop the shaking which means I’m appearing to be experiencing delayed shock.
I haven’t blogged much about the year from hell here, (or there really). Actually I’ve not done much more than allude to it at any given time; blogging really only evolved out of it and was therapy to deal with it rather than sustenance through it.
It was a nasty, nasty, nasty situation (and period of time), and it was all because of a man (not a lover but a leader) and it was uglier for the fact that I was in the middle of it all right there, right next to him in the centre, and in being that close I could not see just how ugly it was and neither could I see just how many people were being damaged because of it.
I know, serious stuff. And yes, they were very definitely damaged (as was I), and some of them are still.
It’s been 3 years since the n-bomb went off and he disappeared in a puff of fallout, 3 years since I saw him or his family to whom I had been so close, virtually 3 years to the day. But as the title suggests, as they have not left the area and I haven’t really changed my patterns to avoid them, I met his wife at the shopping centre today [cue sharp intake of breath.]
Truth to tell I’m surprised about how easy it was to slot into conversation, no heart pounding, no drama, just a hug and a ‘Hi’ and 15mins of fairly normal conversation catching up as you would with any old friend after 3 years.
Except that I can’t call them friends. I can’t ever call them friends again. No matter how much they may want to re-establish contact, to get together and chat about the year/s from hell and to work it out with me.
I just can’t do it because I was damaged in their company, and at their direction, and it’s only after long sessions with my shrink that I’m actually back on the ball and any kind of together either emotionally and spiritually.
But until now I’d forgotten how close to them I was.
And, as mental as it sounds, just how much I actually miss them.