The Case Of The Over-Active Imagination.

>> Jan 21, 2010

Lounging in the sauna last night, yes we have our own don't you know *said in best Mrs Bucket voice*, imagination running riot, I was a hairs breadth from plotting vegemitevix's demise.

What had she done to deserve such treatment?  She had perpetrated the heinous crime of living in the same postcode area my ex-boyfriend and I used to live.  And of course (she says, as if this is the way all minds work) as I was thinking  'small world, fancy meeting someone now from that little village' thoughts, an evil, micro speck of an idea came to me, one so unworthy and undeserving of further exploration that it immediately became the only thing I could think about.

What if she was the other woman?  And by other woman, I mean -the woman the boyfriend met after we split up and I moved to Switzerland to work as a ski rep and then came back and was under the misguided idea that we would still live together and he asked me to move out because he had met someone else which unreasonably upset me because whilst I didn't want him I wasn't entirely keen on the idea of anyone else wanting him- other woman.  We've all got one of those, haven't we?

I was having visions of her living in MY house, with MY things and, yes, MY boyfriend.  I was wondering about the places they went to, the people they did things with, whether she was half as neurotic and crazy as I used to be in those days.  I was having unpleasent day dreams about her living MY life.

Did I say 'used to be' neurotic and crazy?  Ahem.

Jeez, Heather, pull yourself together. 

He was a big part of my life, a huge part.  We worked together and then we lived together, we did everything together.  We were in love.  And he was my first.  The first man, family excluded, that has ever loved me back.  The first that I ever felt like a grown up with, the first where, for a time, I believed that 'this was it.'

The second was my husband.

And it was a big wrench last night in the sauna to realise that he might not be trapped in time where I left him.  He may have moved on, got married, had kids.  That he may never think of me or even want to.  That he might be, gulp, happy without me somewhere.

It's not something I've ever thought about before, being a rather selfish me, me, me, kind of person, and it's a rather humbling thought, ceasing to be the centre of a person's world and becoming not even a distant star.  Very humbling indeed, even if that person isn't someone you have really thought about in years. 

And I began to wonder, had I ever really let go?  After the throwing out of the house incident occurred, which in hindsight I am sure was much more painful for her what with him having to be alone in the house for a day with me and then drive me and my stuff up North, I went back to Switzerland.  And then to Peru and Bolivia.  And then to Lapland.  I never really stopped, never stayed still for very long, drank too much, partied too hard and then met the husband had a couple of kids and adjusted to living in this weird and wonderful land. 

Was I finally at a suitably stayed and calm part of my life where I could look back and let go?  I thought so, yes.  Whilst musing it over I took a photo album from the bookshelf and removed a couple of photos I knew were there at the back.  Him.  A face I knew so well, photos I remember taking, times we shared.  I'll admit to a lump in my throat and a hot pricking sensation at the back of my eyes.

But he's not mine any more, he is no longer a part of my life and if truth be told, I wouldn't want him to be.  We were never any good for each other anyway.  With a final fond smile of goodbye, I tossed them into the fire.  I am very happy with my life now, I wouldn't want to change it for the world.

Oh, and in case you were still wondering, vegemitevix is not the other woman, at least I don't think so, but if you are dear, I'm fine with that.  Only, can I have my African chair back please?  It was rather a pain having to lug it half way around the African continent only to lose it to an ex-boyfriend.  You can keep the dodgy music though, I'll not be admitting that any of that ever belonged to me.

Have you ever had to face a long forgotten love suddenly being thrust back into your life?  I can't imagine how hard it must be if it were all real rather than the result of a very over-active imagination.
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