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Lorna has been gone from work three weeks now.

We’ve stayed in regular contact, texting to talk about work developments, her job hunting, her anxiety about not being able to find a job she’ll love.

Easter is coming up.

Given I live near water with a lovely walking track around a bay, I emailed Lorna and asked her if she’d like to join me for a walk sometime over the break.

The next day, an email popped through on my phone, thanking me for the invitation.

Then something else:

“I just have to ask you – was it you who sent me the flowers on Valentine’s Day, with an anonymous card saying ‘I have a girl crush on you xx’?”

I gasped. I may have stopped breathing for a few seconds.

Moment of truth, I thought. Moment of truth.

As you might recall, I always said that if Lorna ever asked me if I had sent the flowers, I would say ‘yes’.

So I wrote back: “Lorna, I’m surprised it took you so long to work it out. What finally gave me away?”

Waiting for her to respond was excruciating.

Then a message popped through.

“Hmm, so what is it, precisely, precisely, that you’d like me to do to you, babe?”

I stared at the screen.

WHAT. THE. HOLY. FUCK!

I felt heat from within rising and spreading across my décolletage. I could feel my face starting to burn.

FUCK!

She was into it?

Into ME?

She was asking what, “precisely, precisely” she could do to me??

FUCK. FUCK. FUCK!

I felt a slow smile start to spread across my face.

Wow.

I kept staring at the screen, not quite believing what I was reading.

I took a deep breath. The smile didn’t leave my face.

I put my fingers up to the keyboard.

“Play nice,” I typed. “I’m at work!”

And then I made an absolutely fatal fuck-up.

I wanted her to know where I was coming from, so I sent her a link to this blog.

I actually worded it: “You may as well know what you’re getting yourself into.”

Ugh.

She came back to me a couple of hours later after presumably reading every post from woe to go.

She suggested we step back from regular contact.

I thought I was going to pass out.

I’ve never seen anyone go from ‘talk dirty to me’ to ‘I’m getting the fuck out of here’ so fast.

She said she believed she was a “plot device” to “take me into a new era – but not a new error.”

I couldn’t breathe.

Oh. My. God.

WHAT HAD I DONE?

Seriously, what a fucking idiot I was.

This was the equivalent of finally telling someone you’ve had a mad crush on that you like them, then blurting out all the shit from your previous relationship on your first date.

I mean WHO THE FUCK DOES THAT?

Me.

If I sat and read – in one go – a blog like this one, written by someone I was contemplating getting involved with, I’d be fucking running, too.

In the opposite direction.

The truth is, I’m 46. I know what I want. I am soooooo fucking over bullshit. I just wanted to lay it all out there and not waste time.

But I can see how it would have freaked her out.

  • While separated, I’m technically still married.
  • I have three children.
  • I take anti-depressants.
  • My husband went through cancer but is fine now.
  • She might think she’s some kind of rebound girl, and who wants to be that?
  • She might think I’m looking to fulfil some kind of lesbian fantasy.
  • She might not like being my first woman (sexually). Apparently, women who love women HATE being another woman’s first sexual partner. My quick research told me this was a ‘thing’.

She has so many reasons to run.

But so many more reasons to take a chance.

Here’s something I have come to believe.

We all bring something to the table in a relationship.

We bring ourselves. Our past relationships. Our past struggles.

Most of the time, we keep our burdens to ourselves.

The only time you know what your partner has been through is when they share that with you.

But how many people share their rock-bottom moments of despair? Thoughts of running away? Ending it all?

In every relationship, there are complications.

I’ve come a long way since I wrote that first post more than three years ago.

I’ve had therapy.

I take medication which keeps me level.

I’ve worked out I’m better off without toxic people and cheaters in my life.

I am in such a good place.

Life is good.

The most amazing thing I learned?

Life is for living!

Why hold back?

So what if someone’s had a rotten couple of years?

Have they learned anything from it? Have they come out stronger, wiser?

I once had a discussion with Lorna about trusting your gut. She’s a big believer in gut instinct, as am I.

At this stage of my life, I know what I want. I don’t want to fuck around for a month, or six months, or a year, then come to the same conclusion I had at the beginning.

I believe when Lorna sent me that first sexual message, she was going on her gut.

When she was pulling away with all the serious talk, that was logic (and her psychology degree) talking.

My feelings for her haven’t changed.

And they won’t – because I know myself.

But I may have just blown this, thanks to my fucking idiocy.

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