The Day You Talked To Someone Else

Last night I was catching up on EastEnders, (told you I was obsessed with the show, and yes I do know it isn’t real) but I was watching the Coker story, where Les finally tells Pam about him and Claudette.

I was sat watching it and it brought back so many memories, he told her that he just talked to Claudette, because when their son died she fell apart and he needed a shoulder to cry on, he needed to be there for her, but he needed to talk and he couldn’t tell her because he knew she would think the worse.

She felt like she failed.

And it brought back so many memories.

When Rhianna died I needed Mr L, there was no one else I wanted, no one else I needed, I went from quite an independent woman to a totally dependent girlfriend in the matter of a few words. And I really relied on him, and I still do I think in way, but that’s a whole other post.

Our lives changed, and I wanted him there all the time.

One day, not long just a couple of weeks really, Mr L went out with his friends, he needed them I knew that, they wanted to get him on his own. And it was fine, the pubs closed and it became the early hours of the morning. And Mr L wasn’t home.

I remember ringing him, and him telling me he was talking to a friend. It wasn’t a friend I knew at the time, it was someone I knew off, but someone he had known for years. He told me he was walking home, and they were chatting on a bench and talking about Rhianna.

My heart broke.

All over again.

I was already broken and then Mr L went and talked to someone else about Rhianna, at the time he didn’t really mention her at home. It was all formalities, funeral plans, hospital visits and that was the only time she was mentioned by him, Baba and I mentioned her all the time he didn’t.

But then he walked out of the house, and spoke to someone else about her rather than me.

When he got in that night we had a massive row, not a fighting row, a row that was complete sadness to be honest. Three years down the line and I can still remember the row, I can remember the tears and I can remember the heartbreak.

I literally was torn apart that he couldn’t talk to me about our own daughter, our daughter that died, he couldn’t say her name and he couldn’t sit with me and tell me how upset he was, or what he was feeling.

Instead he went to someone else.

At the time it was almost like a betrayal, but I remember in the middle of everything that was said he told me he couldn’t tell me any of his feelings, he couldn’t let me know how upset he was because he had to be strong for me. He didn’t want to upset me.

He was protecting me.

But in doing that he upset me so massively because he didn’t mention her name, he didn’t talk about her, he didn’t talk about his feelings and at the time I thought he didn’t care.

I thought he was shutting me out.

I thought he just didn’t care.

He did.

He so did.

Almost too much, he knew he couldn’t hold me up without talking to someone, but he didn’t think he could talk to me. So he went somewhere else.

I was watching the Cokers characters talk about their grief, and I understood every word they said, we lived that. Mr L had to go somewhere else, and I felt I failed. That evening, I failed, because he couldn’t talk to me, he had to protect me, and it felt awful that he couldn’t talk to me.

It took a long time to overcome that feeling. To understand that it wasn’t a personal attack on me. It really was a hard thing to learn.

We are Rhianna’s mummy and daddy, she is our princess in the sky but we grief so differently!

For a long time we battled that, we disagreed about it, and it did cause friction.

I talk about her all the time, I go to her grave for no real reason, Mr L, doesn’t overly mention her. She wont be mentioned by him spontaneously, he goes to her grave on special occasions, and he will answer if the boys mention her.

I find it really hard to say we have a daughter as well as the boys, the statement gets stuck in my throat, he finds it easy to say. It is a matter of fact to him, he is a daddy of three and he tells anyone who asks.

I cry openly, he goes to hide.

I publically grieve to anyone that listens, Mr L is very private.

He holds me up, and I think I hold him up, I hope I do!

And it is ok!

It’s ok to do it separately