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Ok, the title is a give away to what happened next. I got dumped. Live with it Frieze - stop moaning... Well there's a bit more to the story than just that I became single from it. Ok? Let's see how it all came about.
I'd picked up a rather distressed young lady from near the railway station. You take trains when you're going to meet school friends in other cities, so that's where she needed picking up. We drove home, I knew that things were even more amiss than they'd been before she left and I wanted to press her to talk about them. She was being cagey about it. I hope I tried to be sympathetic, but also needed things to come to a head. It's a bit like waiting to go on stage - you know you'll be faced with the audience at some point and prolonging the start isn't going to help.
We got home and Caroline needed to go out for a walk to clear her head. So I sat at home, wondering what was on her mind. I can't say what I was thinking. I knew she had something to tell me and I had theories, but what was the point of theories - we had the answer, just waiting to be told.
When she arrived back, she still needed goading into telling me. I did my best to assure her that it was better said and that we'd just have to deal with it once it was known. The uncertainty was worse. Even now, knowing what the answer was, the thought of the tension, waiting to find out what she had to say, is still a tough memory. I think we may have even turned it into a guessing game - either I had a stab at it, or she told me outright - it may even have been a combination. She got out the fact that she had spent the weekend with a man and that she wasn't sure she wanted to be with me any more. It was still down to me to guess who it was. This was probably the worse game of "Guess who" I've ever played. I used to enjoy playing that game too "I'm being someone." "Are you a man? Do you live in this country? Are you Irish? Are you George?". When the answer was revealed, I couldn't believe it. I honestly couldn't grasp how it could be. Surely not. Okay, so I'd allowed my paranoia to conceive of it, but how could it be? Impossible. Was our relationship really over? We'd been together six and a half years or so, since a trip to Dublin bonded us... and now just over five years into our engagement, we were under threat from some man she'd met once (well, twice, since she'd just spent the weekend with him) and had known a mere 5 or 6 weeks.
Crikey.
I remember exactly where we were sitting. I remember the disbelief and then thinking about whether all was lost - was there still a chance for us? I could forgive her a lot if it meant keeping her. I needed the details of how this relationship had come about. Perhaps we could use it as a shot across the bows of our relationship and bond together under the adversity. As I heard the details of their courtship unfolding, I realised what I was up against. I officially declared it "a tough gig".
George had contacted Caroline after our return and told her that he thought he'd fallen for her. She too had felt a spark on their first meeting. I suppose you don't know what a spark like that is until you feel it. They agreed to be in touch over phone, text, email (yes, all the communications services that I paid for her to have - see, I can be involved in the course of true love) and basically fell for each other further. Her trip had been to Ireland (she'd not been able to ask me to pick her up from the airport - that would have been a giveaway) and was to find out if it was for real - if they were meant to be together. Little (well fat balding) old me didn't stand a chance. This was the real thing between them. What did she have with me? She didn't love me. Not in that way. She'd tried, but you shouldn't have to try. I came with all the disadvantages to her that I came with and there was no passion in our life together. How can you choose that above "the one"? How can you walk away from a true spark? Theirs was a story of love at first sight, of finding love against the odds and of taking her away from a life she didn't rate - giving her a chance of something she deserved. The fact that I was in the way was an unfortunate detail.
This is not me paraphrasing the way that it was described to me. This is my opinion of how I would have felt in their situation. The bottom line is that I had to question whether or not I was the real thing for her. I should have realised at the time - if you have to question it, then the answer is probably no. I did the only thing I could in that situation. I talked. I talked and talked for England. I tried every tool in my toolbox to convince Caroline that she should stay with me. Nearly every tool. I didn't use emotional blackmail - I didn't want to force her to stay because of what I'd given up for our relationship. I didn't want to force her to worry about what might happen to me if she left. I wanted her to stay because I wanted her to want to be with me. That hadn't been the case for too long a time and I was never going to win her back with that argument... so we really shouldn't have been together. I tried begging... it wasn't going to work. The weird thing was that, looking at it at the time, I kind of felt she ought to take a chance with this Irish chap, rather than stick around with me... but I couldn't bring myself to throw away nearly 7 years of being together in a few seconds by giving up without at least mentioning it. In a later argument she claimed I didn't fight for her enough... I can't see that I had a chance to even try.
It was around this point that I fell apart. Not entirely surprising. I do have a heart... well, I had one... and I was becoming aware of how much hurt I was capable of feeling over the girl I loved. Thank goodness we were already staying in separate rooms! I believe I spent a lot of time crying. The enormity of what was happening to me was too much for my brain to accept. I think I spent that first night in my bed in disbelief and in tears. In the morning, wrung out, ill, not having eaten, and scared, I called in sick. We spent the day trying to avoid the subject of what was going on. I was furious about the concept of her talking to him while in my house, on the mobile phone, despite the fact that he called, so it wasn't costing me anything - I didn't want to overhear their conversation - I didn't want HIM in MY house... it was the ultimate invasion in my life and I couldn't cope.
Oddly, though, in the chaos of that first day of being dumped, there was a very pleasant 90 minutes of entertainment. Despite the fact that I'd been unable to listen to the radio or watch any TV (except the Simpsons) since every word I heard seemed to echo my situation (love songs really suck when you've just been dumped) I felt the need to watch one of my favourite ever films - The Intelligence Men, with Morecambe and Wise. Perhaps one of the highlights of that week was that both of us took a break from our splitting up to absolutely piss ourselves laughing at that movie. I mean really big laughs. It really helped a lot.
When the conversation returned to the "are you really going to leave me" subject and I received my "closing statement" of everything that was on Caroline's mind (and a few things which she probably made up to seal her argument - I'm sure I'm not as incapable of being a satisfactory lover as I remember being told) we got back into full misery mode. I couldn't tolerate another night in the house and stormed out. I spent a night in a hotel - £19 a night - it was basic and horrible. I couldn't bear to be in the house, though - it was our house and I couldn't think straight in it. I couldn't sleep with the weight of everything on my mind. I needed a break.
Perhaps I could have handled things differently, but perhaps I did the best I could under the circumstances. I could see that she had a chance for a better life and if I could deal with my own selfish side of things, then perhaps this was a chance for us both. I'd been trying to come to terms with things during the conversation in my usual way - cracking gags, or making smart comments. This angered Caroline and she'd tell me so, to which I retorted "Oh... and what are you going to do about it, then? Leave me?". Har de har har har.
Quite exactly how much to-ing and fro-ing happened is hard to remember now, but let's leave the being dumped section with me, face down, back on my bed (well futon) at home, crying about my broken heart, wondering what the neighbours would saying, attempting to conceive of how life would be if she were not with me and I were on my own, and not being able to manage it. I was in the first stage of grief - denial. I wailed and hooted. I really made a very very very very funny sound...
20 May 2004
Ashley Frieze