This is such a great piece, and has made my eyes prick with tears for my last love. He came to move in with me after a nine month gap, at which time he was my neighbour. I loved asking him about his day, I loved expressing my gratitude for the things he did for me. I loved to tell him I valued his skills at putting my towel rack together, the shelving in my kitchen and a small trolley to slide into my under- the- stairs cupboard. While he was doing something else, I knelt on the floor looking at a bird table with roof that I had not dreamt would need putting together. It had screws. I took a breath and said, I’ll glue it. He immediately turned to me and said to let him have look. Three minutes later, it was put together with the screws.
He might be in town and text to ask if I needed anything. No. So he would bring me chocolate.
I have poor health, but he didn’t mind. He made wonderful love to me, and I to him.
When he came to move in, he’d been more hasty than I anticipated. The first night left us both with sleep deprivation. The next day, I sat next to him and asked his opinion about a change in the help I had in the house as I was dissatisfied with the help I had. He just kept telling me not to cancel it. I thought he was tired, so I left it for another day. I popped out to see a friend, and when I came back he was gone. At first I thought he’d gone to the local store. No, he was gone as in gone. Later he would text to tell me I had chased him to get a cleaner, cook, and nurse. I felt sad he thought so little of me and himself.
I am not over him.
Writer and psychologist. My health, a journey with two life shortening diseases 