I disappeared, sorry if that has worried anyone.
I’m okay.
Ian drove two hours in the following weekend, and the floodgates opened. He confessed to feeling dissociated from his daughter, and vehemently hating his ex wife, the pain of which made spending time his daughter even more difficult. He admitted to being a bad person, and to treating me like crap by not communicating with me, saying that it was wrong of him to do, and the situation is entirely his fault.
Sh-yeah. It totally fucking is.
And then I held him and we cried together because we both knew I should have dumped his arse months ago if not right then and there.
He said he drove here knowing our relationship was over.
I said you’ve been a massive dick, but ending it will only make us both miserable, and you’ve already been beating yourself up for four years. What would that achieve? I want to be a team with you not punish you further.
Then he held me tight and was tentatively grateful, if not enormously guilty.
I don’t know why I went away. Sometimes I just.. do. It doesn’t necessarily mean things are going along any easier at the time. I guess perhaps thinking is too hard?
SP
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