Heartache

I don't even know how to start.

Can't wait to see the back of 2019. There's been some nice memories, such as my parents visiting and hanging out with Harris, but overall it's been an awful year.

My heart is hurting.

Things are over with S.

As a last 'fuck you,' his company booked him tickets home to India on New Year's Eve - and he took them.

He had an interview lined up, and a house he wants to rent out, but I thought we'd deal with that in the new year. He felt otherwise. The night before, we'd been talking about spending new year in Kigali or maybe going to see his friends in Uganda, but then he came home and said he was leaving.

I wonder if his company did that deliberately, like so many other things they've done to make life miserable. But he could have said no. It seems strange to leave a company because they're controlling your life only to allow them to control the most important part of your life on the day you leave.

To top it off, I was in bed sick. He told me whilst I was huddled up in a duvet taking my temperature, which - as you know from previous health posts - means I reacted with all the emotional control of a toddler.

We had an argument. He left.

My friend Jo came to collect me and took me to the hospital. She sat with me for an hour, translating from French and showing her young daughter all the procedures such as taking blood pressure and blood samples. The rapid test for malaria came back negative, thankfully, but I have some sort of bacterial infection that's gone to my kidney. The doctor told me to sit on a table and pressed my tummy, asking if it hurt. "No," I replied.

Then he asked me to sit up. He thumped one side of my back.

"Did that hurt?"

"No."

"Okay, does this hurt?"

He thumped the other side and I almost passed out.

Lots of tests. I really didn't understand the figures, but one was supposed to be between 0-6 and I scored 48, another you're supposed to be between 60-70% and I was 89.8%. I'm back on antibiotics, so can't even drink over New Year. Perfect end to a perfect year.

I spent the night at Jo's and she drove me back to Kigali this afternoon. Right up until we left I was hoping his car might pull into the drive or he might text to say he'd changed his mind, but life's not a movie.

I was just so looking forward to 2020. There were so many things I wanted us to do and places I wanted to go, but the combination of his job, my health, and the geographic distance between us was just too much for a new relationship. That's what Kigali was supposed to be about - seeing whether we could live together and wanted to take this further. I guess I have the answer, but it hurts.

Jo and her daughter were amazing. I owe them so much. They also provided kitten therapy. Two babies born behind her house. Cuddling kittens always helps.

 

 

Coming home has been really tough. The chairs are still on the porch where our friends were sitting when we left, the bed's unmade and the place is full of dead flowers. Need to do some tidying up, but think I'll spend the next couple of days examining the underside of my duvet.

Everything hurts, body and soul.

Might still go to Uganda with a friend for New Year, the thought of spending it alone is pretty bleak. Just looking forward to the 31st being over because up until that point you're still thinking about things, but once it's done, it's done.

Going to look after myself, get through the meds, get plenty of sleep, watch endless soppy films and cuddle my cats. 

Here's to 2020.

I'll post again when I have something happier to write about.