It says I shouldn't be too angry with my friends that don't get it. That I should smile patiently at those that show little or no understanding. To hell with them, I say. Having had a lovely day with friends who demonstrate empathy and understanding despite never having been through this, I have little patience with those who, being fellow parents, really ought to know better.
My children are fantastic but Leo was sick, big sick, three times today, and Noah whinged all day, pretty much. I miss their father. I remember one divorced woman saying she thought it would be easier if one of them had died. I can't help thinking she may have been right. It's one thing for us not to be together if we couldn't help it, if we were separated by death, but another altogether if we live a few miles apart. Noah doesn't understand. He doesn't know why Daddy has another house now. He cried this morning because his Daddy wasn't here to give him a cuddle. I called Daddy and asked him to speak to him, but I'm not sure that didn't make it worse. It's painful, this feeling that Noah is so young, and already suffers a hurt from which I cannot shield him.
A man I have met is making overtures towards asking me on a date. The thought sickens and terrifies me. Not because of anything personal to do with him, but just the idea of entering into a relationship with another man. At the moment the only people I have to consider are the Pie and the Kong. Is there really room to consider anyone else without them suffering a detriment?
Saturday 24 April 2010
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