The Carnival Is Over…

No… I haven’t suddenly resurrected a Seekers record; in fact I’m pretty positive (although not 100% sure) that I don’t even have a Seekers record.   And why would I need one I ask; when the stinking song is going around and around in my head.

‘Where are things at…’ is what I assume anyone who has been reading this blog is wondering.

Well so far this week we have had the ‘great fridge give-away’; swiftly followed by the ‘shut the hell up, sit down and have no opinion’ email. 

Then I went through a day of indecisiveness and hesitation; we are talking brain full to the point of exploding.  Could I live with the terms?  Could I be happy living with the terms?  And in reality (in those very brief moments of sanity) did I want to step onto a path with terms that were probably going to hurt me?

I’ve been through a roller coaster of emotional upheaval.  Each night it would rattle up the hill of confusion, pause on the brink of hurt and then scream down to the bottom of anger; only to do it all over again.  And again.  For three nights.

And let’s face it.  Anyone reading this blog has known all the long that ‘Hurstville’ is where I was headed; with a one way ticket…  On a damned express train…

And yet after those three days and nights of mind numbing thoughts circling around and around; I finally realised (with a single moment of clarity and one comment from my sister) that this really shouldn’t be this hard.  And it has always been hard!  From the very start when I basically had to get a crow bar and a pair of tin snips to pry the wedding ring from his finger – that he was still wearing because he ‘liked it’.

How can it possibly be so hard?  We are both adult, single; marriages over – in love.  Moving forward, wanting a life together.  A partnership; united.  Us against the world.

But then I realised that is exactly the problem.  It isn’t ‘us’ in the centre and all others on the peripheral.  It is he and the Harridan in the eye – and I’m the one being flung around in the storm of this cyclone.

I tried to think about it rationally; use my Rubik’s Cube method for good, rather than evil…  But no amount of twisting the cube seemed to fit.

And then I awoke to the realisation that there is one part I don’t know; something that the rest of the world must know, but that has escaped me.  And until I am sitting at the table with the same amount of cards as everyone else, I’m really just sitting here with aces and eights – a dead man’s hand.