Twitter@bodaciousquotacious “It is not the strongest of the species that survive, nor the most intelligent, but the one most responsive to change.” Charles Darwin

July 24, 2009

Bye. Yep. Bye. See you ….I flop back on to the door to close it as jumbled thoughts race through my mind at lightning speed. The man I married 12 years and 62 haircuts ago is outside revving up the engine on his new silver Audi A6 saloon, clearly not in the best mood following his sharp exit. After 18 months of screaming, tears, therapy, tears, separation chat, tears, divorce papers, tears, my drinking partner, friend, enemy, co-creator of too many things that mean so much in my life, the only man to ever buy me a vibrator and say I love you to my fanny has – finally – yes, finally checked out.

How do I feel, how DO I feel? I mean people will ask, they are bound to. I don’t know. Excitement, fear, free, lonely, fucked. Fuck. FUCK! Nothing. I feel nothing. The text goes out.

“A rather teary-eyed Mr Bojangles has left the building.”

Bojangles is what friends call him on account of his wedding dancing – although, my Bojangles is admittedly more David Brent ‘Renaissance man’ than celebrated Harlem Hoofer. I slam the phone on the Knoll (table) and am greeted with a brrrrr minutes later…

“Coffeeeee m’dear?xxxxxx”

Brrrrrr…”Y’ok chick?:)))))))x”

Brrrrr…”Well what do you expect from a guy whose moon is in Cancer?;)Lx”

Brrrrr…”Did he take the bloody chinchillas with him? lol xx”

“Nope, left carrying two suitcases, guitar, much-loved signed photo of Neil Young and favourite houseplant.”

“So, honey, how do you feeel?” bleats ever-so-concerned mate Angie (Gemini) over a cup of camomile tea and homemade scone half an hour later. Oh Lordy. I knew I should have dropped by to see a male friend. A male friend would never ask how you feel. They don’t want to know the emotional stuff. They’d put a practical slant on it. What you gonna do? You still got the house? Did he take the Audi? Who’s he shagging?

Brrrr. Twitter, link to photo. Up pops the side of a bus with an advert for Ann Summers latest lube. At last a bit of light relief. Virginia , aka V or Vag (another Aries), probably did a small wee in her pants sending that one.

“Thanks V, needed that! BTW, when is it sensitive to erase the married on facebook?”

Brrrr. “Now Chick, now. Bite the bullet, just DO it and none of that ‘it’s complicated’ business! Live your truth laydey:)))

You think when you separate that that is that – you’ve scaled the mountain – hard part over. But, while I have adapted to the rot of our relationship after a year’s slow composting, none of my family has the slightest clue. Who first? Tell Charlie, my sister, and it’ll be on Loose Women by lunchtime. Tell Mum and I’ll get the lecture with her life as the master-plan. Poor Dad will just cry and worry about my safety. And, because I don’t want to go into massive detail, at what point can I cut the conversation short and put the phone down without seeming like the world’s most heartless bitch?

It’s going to be painful. My family thought our marriage was perfect. They loved him more than me. They didn’t see the creases in our relationship I tried so desperately for years to iron out: his lap dancing receipts, the longer and longer lunch breaks, the workaholic, monosyllabic man I played house with, the ‘bitch’ rants after a few whiskies. And what are HIS family going to think when they find out I wasn’t exactly Mother Theresa myself?

“I must change the sheets.” Oh Lordy. I’m talking to myself out loud already. I’ll be investing in a brace of cats next like some of my thirty-something friends. I reach for the fridge, get out a half-drunk bottle of chilled Prosecca and sit at the Knoll with my dog-eared deck of Goddess oracle cards designed by world-renowned clairvoyant and Doc of psychology Doreen Virtue (Yes,that is her real name).

As I shuffle the pack one flips out …Butterfly maiden…I flick through the book….

 Transformation

“Ain’t that the truth.” Scheisse, I’m talking out loud again.

You are experiencing enormous change right now which brings great blessings. Be part of nature’s cycles of birth, death and rebirth. Allow old parts of your life to fall away. This Hopi Native American Spirit will guide you through this time of transition and help you spread your wings.

Brrrrrrr…”Hey U, Cum 4 drnk – celebratn time. xG ”

“Can’t G , too much to do,” I text. “Letting dust settle, getting to grips with divorce thang.”

“Get to grips tomorrow. Things look better in the morning. xx”

“Spose you’re right. Should be out painting the town .” G.

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4 Responses to “Twitter@bodaciousquotacious “It is not the strongest of the species that survive, nor the most intelligent, but the one most responsive to change.” Charles Darwin”

  1. Antonia D said

    Hey Abi – Sounds like you need to come and hang with the girls and me!!! All suddenly single with 7 little delights aged 1-10 between us – You will never want for a babysitter again I can tell you!!!! Keep your chin up lovely lady – and remember Pinot Grigio is your friend!

    • Abi Tight said

      Thanks Antonia but actually I feel rather good. Sounds like you have some kind of hippy commune going on. I have meanwhile joined every cheapskate course in London, poledancing, singing, salsa. Come join me. XX

  2. 70ssal said

    I have a few bits of advice for you Abi.

    1. Did the warning bells not start alarming when he said I love you to your fanny? That was never going to end with a happy ever after waltz into the sunset now was it?

    2. Be grateful he only took the houseplant. All other stuff (Neil Young photo and guitar) I would imagine would be cause for celebration. Change the locks pronto before he decides he also wants the plasma TV, stereo and possibly your vibrator (no seriously, I have known guys to do this)

    3. Take your status of facebook entirely, then you won’t upset anyone. Simples (as the meerkat would say). You also then get to retain an air of mystery of Facebook – is she married/single/complicated?? (I know – You thought it was impossible to retain an air of mystery of Facebook. We have to take the small things left to us. I thought I’d crossed my own final frontier when Pink posted a dreadful picture of me without make up that I couldn’t even be bothered to de-tag. Facebook is beyond even the fevered imagining of Orson Wells)

    4. Stay away from Leonard Cohen for a while. I would stick to listening to the classic staples “I’m Every Woman” “Young Hearts” “I Will Survive”, “Dancing Queen” at a push and may I point you to “Real Men Don’t Eat Quiche”. The country classics often speak volumes to us.

    I wait to see whether town was painted red or just a dusky pink – and let me know if you need a fellow decorator. xx

    • Abi Tight said

      Hahahahah…What kind of man nicks a vibrator and yes I could do with a fellow decorator? The poet Abi Tight x

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