Thank you, darling V. I've read your words many times and each time I see new wisdom in them.
One of the reasons I left the man I went out with briefly in 2016 was his drinking. I just knew I couldn't go through that again and didn't want that to be my life going forward.
Then there was his anger and emotional abuse (which I'm pretty sure would have turned into economic abuse and physical violence).
But I just could not stand the amount he drank, the regularity of it, and the effects of being close to it. It was like I'd reached my limit, my saturation point...all of a sudden, after years and years of thinking that was normal.
So, the other evening...what happened?
I'm still in a state of shock. I feel a little exhilarated, but I'm not quite sure if I can trust that yet.
I had got to a stage of 'what will be will be' that evening I wrote the post above, and of just being happy with letting things unfold without trying to exert an influence on the outcome.
Ten to midnight he texts. Ten past midnight I hear the key in my front door.
There is no scratching about with the key, no missing of the keyhole time and time again. He comes in the door. There is no sound of banging against the walls, breaking things, or over exaggerated attempts at being quiet.
He closes the door, quietly and comes through. He sits on the edge of my bed and we have a conversation where he tells me what a lovely time he's had and how the evening went. He is coherent. A bit tipsy, for sure, but just merry. He talks in sentences, without slurring his words, and remembering everything about the evening. He is coherent and co-ordinated.
Then he stands up, without swaying about or falling over. He takes all his own clothes off, in a very co-ordinated way, comes to bed, and we chat some more and have a cuddle and fall asleep. It's perhaps about half past midnight by then.
What I described above maybe happened once or twice in my M (that's me giving the benefit of the doubt...I can't actually remember something like that happening during the 18 years we were together and subsequently for the 15 years of my M). But my XH would have been **much** more drunk. He would have been uncoordinated, slurring his words, speaking in short phrases, stinking of alcohol...you get the picture.
I'm starting to realise how much I actually put up with, for all those years, thinking it was normal. And I'm starting to realise how damaging it was for me and how damaged I feel now by it.
But I also feel a little exhilarated, if a little unsure and tentative. Is this what normality is like? It feels like such a beautiful thing, so delightful and precious. I just want to hold it close, cherish it and look after it. It's like a balm for my heart.
