~ 22 ~ #3
Now, I read the label of every bottle on my shelf, not feeling drawn to any of them.
I’d thought tonight called for some of my finest single malt whisky to nurse my new insights with, but, as I stared at the gorgeous bottle of Balbuinidh from the heart of the Scottish Highlands in front of me, I knew it wouldn’t make me feel any better.
I’d been drinking even more in the last couple of weeks since our big argument, and it hadn’t helped one bit.
If anything, it only made me feel worse.
Alcohol added nothing to my life except for distracting me from more important things and from getting in touch with how I really felt.
I could see it so clearly now.
Closing the cabinet, I caught sight of myself in the glass door.
I didn’t recognise myself. It was jarring to look at myself right now, as if I’d tried to become someone else and now it was embarrassing to find that I was still just me and I knew it.
I wanted to turn away. Instead, I took a long hard look and I still wasn’t happy with what I saw.
Not about my face. But about myself. In my eyes.
I had pushed my partner away to save myself yet again.
The one thing I always did when someone got too close. I held my chin and sighed.
And the absolute worst of it was that I’d hurt the person I love most. I kept seeing the look of hurt in Rona’s eyes, that slight distance creep in, realising in real time that she could no longer trust me like she thought she could, and it devastated me.
The talk with Elena today had shaken me.
Her questions swirled in my head, and I kept asking myself why I was like this.
Blame the parents was never one of my favourite routes to take, but, the more I thought about it, the more I could see that I always felt I had to perform for their love.
Their love for me seemed to be bound up with my achievements.
I could never turn to them when I was overwhelmed, so I learned to handle things on my own.
Looking around my home, it was like there was a huge gaping hole right in the middle of my living room.
I felt it in my chest. I’d asked for space to recharge, and that had helped at first, but now I felt worse.
I was supposed to be working on my autobiography, but I hadn’t been able to concentrate on it since Rona and I had fought.
Nothing felt right. I didn’t want to be alone.
This isolation no longer felt like the solution to my overwhelm, not when I knew Rona and I had a real shot at building a relationship neither of us had achieved before.
She was probably in the studio right now.
I never bothered her there because she liked space when she worked.
I respected that. In fact, I’d only been to her studio once.
Rona had been so excited to show me. I was starstruck knowing of all the famous people who’d been there to work with her.
But what stayed with me was the way she’d gently tugged me onto her lap and played her piano with me bundled into her chest, my arms wrapped around her shoulders.
She’d sung me a new love song she’d written, as she softly went about disarming the container around my heart.
I often thought back to that moment. It was what love must feel like, surely.
The memory was soft and hazy, and all I wanted to do was climb back into it, into Rona’s arms, and get back to that feeling.
Something certain took over me. I hadn’t really formulated my thoughts yet, but all I knew was that I was an ass and I needed to talk to her.
I found myself putting on my jacket and picking up my keys.
It was so clear to me that Rona was all that mattered.
Having her in my life was the most precious thing and I needed to save our relationship before it fizzled out due to more poor communication and me not prioritising the most special person I’d ever met.
I headed straight over to her studio after I sent her a quick text. We’d been texting a lot over the last week, but never really addressing what happened in our disagreement the week before. It had started to feel like we were just being polite to each other rather than saying how we actually felt.
Can I come and see you right now? I need to talk to you. It’s important.
It wasn’t until I was nearly at the studio when I received a reply.
I’m kind of in the middle of something – sorry. I’m making a song and it’s all falling into place! If I get interrupted, I might lose my flow. Could we talk later tonight? You could come around to mine around nine if you like.
I stopped walking. I took in a deep breath and let it out slowly.
What was I thinking? I couldn’t ask Rona for space then just waltz into her life whenever I wanted.
I liked that she was passionate about her music right now though.
I was so happy for her and couldn’t wait to hear more about the new song she was making.
No problem. I’ll see you at yours soon. I love you xxx
I waited for a text the whole time I stood in the queue for a burger in the place next to the station.
Rona replied. Great. See you soon.
My stomach dropped. Now I had to actually convey how I felt to Rona, apologise, and start the conversation about how we were going to repair things. Had I allowed something very negative to take root in our relationship? Had I ruined what we had?
I picked up my order from the teenager behind the counter, not feeling very hungry now at all.