We were still in the throes of covid, so not a great time. Given our history, it was understandable I was trepidatious. I mentioned going away somewhere, together.
Needless to say, that did not go over well. His expression was grim as he responded, “what’s changed?”
I faltered before mumbling something to the effect of “ummm … a lot … I’d like to think we’ve both learnt some lessons and things will be different this time….”
And then it hit me. Nothing had changed for him and it never would. He was done, and I had given him the out.
Silly me. Silly, silly me…. what on earth was I thinking?!
In retrospect, I should have seen this coming. Our relationship had never been easy. But nothing prepared me for this. I thought he was my future. That I was done looking. Apparently he thought otherwise.
And that’s how I was gobsmacked at 59.
To say my world came crashing down is putting it mildly. I was gutted. Striped bare and flayed alive. At least that’s what it felt like. And then the dark cloud descended….
gobsmacked at 59 
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