…I’ve had this post written in my mind for a while. Because, whatever you may think, my feelings for you are still largely love, patience and compassion.
First things first, let me say happy birthday – 33 today! Believe it or not, I do still wish you happiness and I hope you’re being well looked after by those around you, today of all days.
I’ve sent you a message of course – I always do – but no doubt it will fall on deaf ears which is why, unfortunately, I no longer send cards or gifts (this goes for your daughter, my niece, too). Because there’s only so long that you can keep doing something and be ignored.
Which means that this year I’ve instead decided to write you a blog post – something honest, transparent and hopeful. And yes, perhaps you won’t read it but at least it’ll be here in the future for you – when you’re finally ready.
It’s been over two years now – almost as many months as you have in years – since our relationship broke down to nothing at all, and even longer since it first hit the rocks. We don’t have other siblings – it’s just me and you. And we don’t have another family – so it’s this (in all its craziness) or nothing. But even knowing this you’d rather cut me out, which makes me more sad than words can say.
How the hell did we get here? Why is it still going on? If past conversations are anything to go by you’ll no doubt say it’s my fault but I can’t believe that you really think that – not in your heart of hearts.
Its roots are in that time just after June 2010 – when I’d come back from honeymoon and when you were splitting up with R. We talked (remember we used to talk?) and it turned out that you were attracted to someone else and had decided it was time to move on. R was a part of our lives though (she’d been with you for what, 7 years?) and you made it clear that you wanted everyone to move on peacefully, with all of us staying friends.
The whole split, and new relationship, was tumultuous to say the least. But we continued to talk – often for hours – as you looked to me to help you navigate your way through.
But quite suddenly everything shifted. And everything I did or touched became wrong. I can pinpoint the exact moment things changed – your new girlfriend was moving in, you’d had a huge argument and again you and I had talked things through. I was obviously concerned that you were ok but when I checked in with you the next day, there was nothing but silence. And after that, we were done – our relationship was quite simply no more.
Yes we spoke in the years following but it was always underlined by tension. And a sense that I somehow didn’t measure up for you any longer. Where we had once spoken regularly we now barely spoke at all. And where we’d have once happily spent fun weekends together, it became that we rarely even saw each other – and when we did the time generally maxed out at an hour.
For probably around four years we existed in what I can only refer to as a twilight zone, and then came January 2014. When my birthday gift for your daughter arrived late, my whole life fell apart (and yes, if you think for a second, maybe you’ll draw a line between the two) and you cut me out of your life.
I don’t think there’ll ever be a time to voice all the pain and hurt of these last 6 years, though there’ll always be time to talk about the joy of the previous 27.
We have a long, involved, sometimes complicated and at times frustrating history Tim but I will always love you, and I will always be here for you. I just hope that, as well as the history, we also have a future.