30 April 2009

Well, it is done. As, pretty much, am I. I took C's stuff back today. Left it on her doorstep, rang the bell and walked away, not quickly (I can't do that at the best of times, far less after driving 25 miles) but with ne'er so much as a backwards glance. As I returned to my car it felt like a load had been lifted from my shoulders. Of course I imagined her running after me, but I also knew that wasn't going to happen. However strong our love may have been at one time - and I have my doubts that it was ever that strong - it has long since withered. My only regret is that, deep within, I am a caring person. I always want to leave the door ajar in case a person should change their mind. I have never been as other men (and women, come to that) who start trawling for their next opportunity as soon as the present one looks shaky. It is, however, a flaw that leaves me exposed to being taken for a fool and hurt.

Hope leads to more hope, reading into small signs meaning that is not there. You would think that having reached nearly 47 that I would have learned by now. So would I.