Crossroad signpost saying Hard Way , Eas

TO BLOSSOM AND BACK

Chapter 6: The 1st choice, and there was one!

The trip to Warwick was approaching fast. It was only 3 days away.  The Friday before Rose and I planned the excursion. I told Rose that I was collecting a new car at the weekend and that it had a build in satnav, so that was covered. Rose told me that she would bring her satnav as well because it was a good one and it would do as a backup. We made sure we had all the paper work required and addresses. We discussed times and that Rose should arrive at my house for 6.15 am to allow us plenty of time to get to Warwick. It was agreed.

It was the end of Friday and Rose had been in my office far too long. But this was not unusual now. I was conscious of what others were thinking and so was Rose, but we worked around it by saying things like “ok, we will take a look at that next” or “we need to meet to discuss the performance”… and so on, usually as Rose left my office so everyone could hear the discussion.

We both remained in my office until Jim came in to say goodbye and to have a good weekend. At that moment Rose and I stood, gathering our things. We both looked at each other and said our goodbyes.


The weekend came, Rose and I did the usual routines by checking each other out on Facebook and hitting the like button, ensuring that the other one knew that we were still there.


I went to look at the new car and bought it, an Alfa Romeo, I loved it and it’s lovely tan leather seats. It drove and felt like true quality. I took it home and put my personal belongs into it. I set the satnav up with the address to Warwick. Ok I thought this is definitely the car to take.


It was a long weekend that weekend. Why I hear you ask? I had very specific thoughts running through my mind and those thoughts were this.

Should I, or should I not, ask Rose if we have something special going on here?

The other consideration is how I can put it?  If Rose said no, could I divert it into a joke? Something like this:

     

“Hey, have we got some kind of special connection going on here, or is it just me?”


If Rose was to reply with “no we are just friends aren’t we?”


I would say “Yeah, of course that’s what I meant, a special friendship kind of connection” and


then laugh and gulp at the same time.


I remember clearly on the Sunday evening the torture of the battle of whether I should ask Rose or not. I paced up and down, up and down, reminding myself of what could happen. I envisioned a little me on each shoulder. The one my right shoulder informing me of what would happen if I made the wrong choice; the pain and the hurt, all the additional complications that would go along with that bad choice. The other little me, sat on the left shoulder telling me about all the nice things that would happen if I made the correct choice, after all this was Rose, she was so delightful. Think where this could lead. It could lead to all those nice places that you have been dreaming about: holidays together, golf together, cuddles and kisses together and that ultimately together we could be a lovely little family.

The little me on my left shoulder was louder, more convincing, overruling and resounding in confidence. No one needed to know, No one would know, it would be yours and Rose’s secret.


The right shoulder spoke, don’t do it. Then the left shoulder spoke encouragingly… do it, yes, do it.


I looked into the bathroom mirror and starred at myself for a long time. I asked myself what had I become? This was not me. I was not like this! I was not a deceitful player who could disrespect people without feeling guilty and the need to put it right. No, this was not me!

I walked out of the bathroom distressed and without solace. I felt incredibly alone and heavily burdened. I could usually make decisions with ease, confidence and comfort with the knowledge that I was right.

On this occasion I was a quibbling wreck. No guidance and no emotional control. Every time I made sense to myself, Rose would pop into my head. That little piece of heaven, those gorgeous to die for eyes, her soft voice and quirky expressions that bowled me over…. every single time. I was lost, plain and simple. I was in a whirlwind that had sucked me up and was spinning me around until at some point I would be spat out. There would be a hard painful thud as I hit the ground. Would I get up?


May 3rd 2018


This date was a life changing, significant, a momentous day in history. Not just for me but for many other people as well. There is always a domino effect when a choice is made, whether it be good or bad.

On This day I wrote this in my diary:


      “Today was a very interesting day it was pure brilliance, unforgettable life changing stuff!’


Today was Warwick day. Today was going to be a day that changed my life forever. This date is a date that will be embedded into my memory banks until the day I die. This day would affect loved ones, friends, work colleagues and ultimately how I would look at life and understand (or not understand) many of its aspects, its angles, twists and turns.


This was “the choice” day.

Did I have a choice? This is the great debate; when someone is entangled in an emotional battle that has taken over his or her life in every possible waking moment, when there is no rational thought due to the explosion of a mind bending emotional fog. Searching for answers but denying them (not particularly on purpose), but because wave after wave of destructive imbalance and disparity brings no equilibrium. Even though you realise the destructiveness of what you want to do and what you will do, there still seems to be no perpetual motion towards a sensible outcome.

The process of rational emotional imbalance brings a normal caring man to tears. Confusion, wondering, speculating and disregarding. Ultimately overlooking the reality of the situation that will certainly occur once the choice is made.

So many emotions thrown together in a pot, which is simply a giant recipe for disaster. There is no real clear thinking, only smog, which you fumble through trying to latch on to anything that makes sense.

However in the smog you see it? A light shining, you stumble towards the light as the smog clears and walk straight into a trap. A passion trap, a good feel trap, an excitement trap, an, I want trap, a “love” trap.

It is like any addiction. Whether it be drugs, alcohol, sex, food etc., anyone with an addiction struggles to make that choice. Should I, or Shouldn’t I? I never in my life really understood what it would feel like to be motivated by something that was so destructive. I don’t mean Rose, I mean the wrong decision!

The brain is now in full control and running on the wrong fuel. Or is it? As I sit here now 2.5 years later I still wonder if I was truly in love with the girl of my dreams, my soul mate, did I make the wrong choice?


So many questions and so many answers. None of them right, none of them wrong. All I knew at the time was May 3rd had arrived.

 

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