I recently had something is a brainwave, following a series of Internet radio shows I'd followed, advocating the use of being positive and proactive in order to achieve harmony, where once discord ruled.
I set about my task in a haphazard way, outlining the merits of spreading the love etc, not being at war with each other and so on, and so on. This was an olive branch being offered to an ex I had not spoken to for years, and although the goal was strictly not an attempt to reconcile, it was a try at letting them (in her camp) know I wasn't harbouring any hostility.
I avoided using names, knowing the upwards of two dozen people would be reading it, and kept things as honest and simple as I could. The recipient isn't known for high intelligence, so I had to write as I would to someone who hadn't been at school for long.
To cut a long winded and frankly upsetting story short, the outcome was the olive branch was fashioned into a weapon and the weapon was then used to destroy my relationship with the person I had shared a home with for over six years. I was surprised that it was not only misread, misquoted, misunderstood, mistimed and my offer of peace misplaced, it was treated as virtual treason.
The fact that so much trouble was caused by this, told me that my relationship that was, far from being the strong union I imagined it to be, was actually so flimsy a gentle breeze would have collapsed it. This left me wondering "Is it best to be a nice person?"
I know more than a few guys, in very long relationships, who spend little time in their homes, and even less time with their partners. Some have had affairs, wrecked the house, been arrested, jailed, drunk, stoned and acted as though they are single. All slightly different in their respective crimes, but all sharing one common thread. They are ALL still with the same partner. Not only still there, but roundly adored by their better halves, with a loyalty that would have made knights on crusade proud.
Does telling your partner you love them several times a day, washing dishes, doing washing and putting it out, cleaning, ironing and being an equal part in the upkeep of the house, trigger some kind of latent resentment? Is it a primal thing where a man has to be sat scratching his nuts, belching and demanding food at intervals, in order to be attractive to his partner? Seems the new man thing is not only a fabrication of the media, it is completely unworkable. In my particular case, a lull in the amount of gigs per week, proved to be the catalyst, requiring only the proverbial "straw" placing on the back of our camel, to bring it to its knees. The straw being my attempt to connect with the past, in order to have some kind of relationship with my child.
A long heart to heart with my recent ex, revealed that the heart pounding, adrenaline rush you get when you first fall in love, had gone. Who the hell walks around in a dead feint, with palpitations and a gallon of adrenaline in their veins, after 6 years together? Answer = No one.
My ex told me she'd always love me, loved me to bits, but wasn't feeling that 'first week rush'. We had a hug and cried in each others arms (first time I'd seen her cry, aside from watching 'Marley and Me') and we agreed to part company. Stupid really, because the 'love you to bits' and 'will always love you' is exactly the stage you should be at, when you've been together getting on 7 years. I can't magically invoke the rush and first flush of love, and nor can anyone else after all that time together. All we've really done is make life very hard for both of us.
As for the malicious bastard who took an offer of peace and beat me and my relationship to death with it, well the Karma Police will catch up with that horrible person. I can hear the sirens already, even if she can't. I'm a BIG believer in Karma, fate and the "What comes around......" way of thinking. I have never hated anyone in my life as it is unhealthy and self-destructive - a kind of mental cancer that eats away at the hater, from the inside - but this has brought me very close to hatred.
Why do some people thrive on trouble? If someone offered to bury the hatchet with me and I didn't want to, I'd ignore the request. I wouldn't leave it for months then find ways to cause as much trouble as I possibly could. What do they think my reaction would be? Turn the other cheek?
When my other ex first took up with a guy she'd been writing to in prison - while I was at work - a local crack addict who told his own mates she was "Just something to do", I left it with them. I didn't so what many men would do (and what another ex of mine actually did) and go kicking the door off the hinges, raising hell and beating the new fella into a coma. As I have a son, I have much more respect than that. No way would I take trouble to ANYONE'S door, under ANY circumstances, no matter what they'd done. But I do firmly believe that God works in mysterious ways. I believe that you reap what you sow.
A bloke in a pub in town once said something unkind about my ex - who had fallen pregnant with a bloke and had an abortion - something about having free tickets for the abortion clinic Xmas disco. This was supposed to gain my favour. Maybe make me laugh at her misfortune, please me somehow.
What actually happened was I completely lost it for a few minutes, and the guy knows that only quick intervention from the nearby landlord, saved him from a much worse fate than the bloodied nose and black eye he left with. I don't allow anyone to speak that way about anyone, let alone some I loved once.
In the same way, my recent ex will also not be name called or undergo character dissection in my company. Even though I think she's been extremely silly and will probably regret having listened to tittle tattle one day. The chances of getting a guy who gets a lot of pleasure from dancing in the house with his partner, telling them he loves them every few hours, cooks, serenades and entertains - after age 50 - are between very remote and "Don't talk so stupid!". Every time I get badly burned I always vow to be more like other people and learn to be hard, uncaring and have the "Not giving a shit" attitude, but the truth is, I can only be me, and I haven't a malicious bone in me.
Luckily, there's no shortage of people out there who have been mistreated and actually HAVE managed to get out intact, looking for just the chap with the above traits. I'm in no rush to go jumping into another relationship as my love for my ex hasn't even started to go cold, let alone die, but I can't see any sense in sitting around moping. There were no affairs, no beatings, no staying out, just a long, slow, decline. We both let it slide, to the point where we didn't see where it had slid to.
As I'm a romantic old sod, not afraid to talk feeling, unashamed to weep at sad adverts on television, generous, very loving and a damn good cook, and she was - by her own admittance - "Just not the love and romance type" its a wonder we made it to 6 months, let alone six years, but I loved her very much.
I think a relationship needs a jolt now and then. Six years without incident is a good run, so maybe a little bump was needed, and I thought it actually could have been the best thing to happen to us, maybe made us realise what we were about to lose, by letting things go downhill over time. Seems I was alone in that way of thinking, she saw it as being cause for instant and permanent death. Damn shame.
For my own part, I still love her, and I miss her (I even wrote a song called "I miss you being you" when the menopause began to erase the person I'd first met, to the point where I hardly recognised her as the same girl. I really did miss her being herself) and will miss her for a long time yet. She's still a lovely girl who deserves the very best from life and I hope she gets what she needs.
I just wonder, is being Mr Nice Guy really the way to go. They say women like a bad man, a bit of danger and all that, but where's the line? It's too late for me to learn to stay out all night with other women, come home drunk and put my foot through the TV and stand calling my partner a whore while I'm breaking her nose - and even it it was possible, it wouldn't be what I'd aspire to. Not a chance.
A leopard can't change its spots and nor can I pretend to be anything other than what I am. I'm a naturally optimistic, glass half full type of man, so I have to think that it isn't too late for me to meet someone nice, someone who wants a bit of pampering (one of my special massages) serenading on the guitar, waltzing around the living room in a comedy way - and dipping you backwards (you have to trust me not to drop you) to kiss you and basically making you feel like you're the only person on the planet. This is a normal day to me, but it doesn't suit everyone and certainly not someone who "Isn't the love type", so it made it hard work from day one. But when you are in love with someone you put up with differences, until those differences mutate into something that makes it too hard to hang on any longer. Letting go is always a shame, but it has to be done in circumstances like ours, even if it hurts like hell.
I set about my task in a haphazard way, outlining the merits of spreading the love etc, not being at war with each other and so on, and so on. This was an olive branch being offered to an ex I had not spoken to for years, and although the goal was strictly not an attempt to reconcile, it was a try at letting them (in her camp) know I wasn't harbouring any hostility.
I avoided using names, knowing the upwards of two dozen people would be reading it, and kept things as honest and simple as I could. The recipient isn't known for high intelligence, so I had to write as I would to someone who hadn't been at school for long.
To cut a long winded and frankly upsetting story short, the outcome was the olive branch was fashioned into a weapon and the weapon was then used to destroy my relationship with the person I had shared a home with for over six years. I was surprised that it was not only misread, misquoted, misunderstood, mistimed and my offer of peace misplaced, it was treated as virtual treason.
The fact that so much trouble was caused by this, told me that my relationship that was, far from being the strong union I imagined it to be, was actually so flimsy a gentle breeze would have collapsed it. This left me wondering "Is it best to be a nice person?"
I know more than a few guys, in very long relationships, who spend little time in their homes, and even less time with their partners. Some have had affairs, wrecked the house, been arrested, jailed, drunk, stoned and acted as though they are single. All slightly different in their respective crimes, but all sharing one common thread. They are ALL still with the same partner. Not only still there, but roundly adored by their better halves, with a loyalty that would have made knights on crusade proud.
Does telling your partner you love them several times a day, washing dishes, doing washing and putting it out, cleaning, ironing and being an equal part in the upkeep of the house, trigger some kind of latent resentment? Is it a primal thing where a man has to be sat scratching his nuts, belching and demanding food at intervals, in order to be attractive to his partner? Seems the new man thing is not only a fabrication of the media, it is completely unworkable. In my particular case, a lull in the amount of gigs per week, proved to be the catalyst, requiring only the proverbial "straw" placing on the back of our camel, to bring it to its knees. The straw being my attempt to connect with the past, in order to have some kind of relationship with my child.
A long heart to heart with my recent ex, revealed that the heart pounding, adrenaline rush you get when you first fall in love, had gone. Who the hell walks around in a dead feint, with palpitations and a gallon of adrenaline in their veins, after 6 years together? Answer = No one.
My ex told me she'd always love me, loved me to bits, but wasn't feeling that 'first week rush'. We had a hug and cried in each others arms (first time I'd seen her cry, aside from watching 'Marley and Me') and we agreed to part company. Stupid really, because the 'love you to bits' and 'will always love you' is exactly the stage you should be at, when you've been together getting on 7 years. I can't magically invoke the rush and first flush of love, and nor can anyone else after all that time together. All we've really done is make life very hard for both of us.
Why do some people thrive on trouble? If someone offered to bury the hatchet with me and I didn't want to, I'd ignore the request. I wouldn't leave it for months then find ways to cause as much trouble as I possibly could. What do they think my reaction would be? Turn the other cheek?
When my other ex first took up with a guy she'd been writing to in prison - while I was at work - a local crack addict who told his own mates she was "Just something to do", I left it with them. I didn't so what many men would do (and what another ex of mine actually did) and go kicking the door off the hinges, raising hell and beating the new fella into a coma. As I have a son, I have much more respect than that. No way would I take trouble to ANYONE'S door, under ANY circumstances, no matter what they'd done. But I do firmly believe that God works in mysterious ways. I believe that you reap what you sow.
A bloke in a pub in town once said something unkind about my ex - who had fallen pregnant with a bloke and had an abortion - something about having free tickets for the abortion clinic Xmas disco. This was supposed to gain my favour. Maybe make me laugh at her misfortune, please me somehow.
What actually happened was I completely lost it for a few minutes, and the guy knows that only quick intervention from the nearby landlord, saved him from a much worse fate than the bloodied nose and black eye he left with. I don't allow anyone to speak that way about anyone, let alone some I loved once.
In the same way, my recent ex will also not be name called or undergo character dissection in my company. Even though I think she's been extremely silly and will probably regret having listened to tittle tattle one day. The chances of getting a guy who gets a lot of pleasure from dancing in the house with his partner, telling them he loves them every few hours, cooks, serenades and entertains - after age 50 - are between very remote and "Don't talk so stupid!". Every time I get badly burned I always vow to be more like other people and learn to be hard, uncaring and have the "Not giving a shit" attitude, but the truth is, I can only be me, and I haven't a malicious bone in me.
Luckily, there's no shortage of people out there who have been mistreated and actually HAVE managed to get out intact, looking for just the chap with the above traits. I'm in no rush to go jumping into another relationship as my love for my ex hasn't even started to go cold, let alone die, but I can't see any sense in sitting around moping. There were no affairs, no beatings, no staying out, just a long, slow, decline. We both let it slide, to the point where we didn't see where it had slid to.
As I'm a romantic old sod, not afraid to talk feeling, unashamed to weep at sad adverts on television, generous, very loving and a damn good cook, and she was - by her own admittance - "Just not the love and romance type" its a wonder we made it to 6 months, let alone six years, but I loved her very much.
I think a relationship needs a jolt now and then. Six years without incident is a good run, so maybe a little bump was needed, and I thought it actually could have been the best thing to happen to us, maybe made us realise what we were about to lose, by letting things go downhill over time. Seems I was alone in that way of thinking, she saw it as being cause for instant and permanent death. Damn shame.
For my own part, I still love her, and I miss her (I even wrote a song called "I miss you being you" when the menopause began to erase the person I'd first met, to the point where I hardly recognised her as the same girl. I really did miss her being herself) and will miss her for a long time yet. She's still a lovely girl who deserves the very best from life and I hope she gets what she needs.
I just wonder, is being Mr Nice Guy really the way to go. They say women like a bad man, a bit of danger and all that, but where's the line? It's too late for me to learn to stay out all night with other women, come home drunk and put my foot through the TV and stand calling my partner a whore while I'm breaking her nose - and even it it was possible, it wouldn't be what I'd aspire to. Not a chance.
A leopard can't change its spots and nor can I pretend to be anything other than what I am. I'm a naturally optimistic, glass half full type of man, so I have to think that it isn't too late for me to meet someone nice, someone who wants a bit of pampering (one of my special massages) serenading on the guitar, waltzing around the living room in a comedy way - and dipping you backwards (you have to trust me not to drop you) to kiss you and basically making you feel like you're the only person on the planet. This is a normal day to me, but it doesn't suit everyone and certainly not someone who "Isn't the love type", so it made it hard work from day one. But when you are in love with someone you put up with differences, until those differences mutate into something that makes it too hard to hang on any longer. Letting go is always a shame, but it has to be done in circumstances like ours, even if it hurts like hell.