Woke this morning still in pain, slept OK, apart from when I rolled over in bed and put pressure on my left side. Mr Ex brought me my post and funnily said I should feel lucky that it’s my left side and that I’m right handed. I hadn’t thought of it like that and smiled wryly. I asked him if he wanted me to demonstrate by breaking his left hand? He responded in the negative, stating that he already knows what it is like to lose the relative use of one hand for a while. He reminded me that when he broke his hand it was his right hand and more of a loss to him than my mere left shoulder is to me. The cheek!!….

He also offered to rub some deep heat into it for me, I politely declined. Firstly, the pain in my shoulder is enough without having watering eyes too, secondly I don’t really want for Mr Ex to rub anything in my presence! I started to wonder about how I was going to dress myself. I told him if he really wanted to help me, he would dress the children for me so I could have longer to attempt to put my own clothes on. He dutifully did just that. I had considered the possibility of asking Mr Ex to help me get dressed, but I feel oddly strange about him seeing me in my underwear, even though he was the only guy to see me in my underwear for five years.

I opened my post as soon as Mr Ex left the room. I had three small packages. One was more photos from my recent Burlesque Workshop, which I had been waiting for for ageeeees! One was a new pair of red fishnet stockings to go with my red little number that I have upstairs and showed Mr E the other day, and also to go with that red basque that Mr E and I decided upon on Thursday. The remaining parcel was the most gorgeous tiny little set. It’s a black lacy see through cami with an open front and a matching frilly thong. If only my shoulder could bear to let me try them on just yet!!

I started to get dressed. I went for my black trousers, black top, black shoes and black belt. I looked in the mirror. The first thing I noticed was how slim I looked – the joys of wearing black, eh? The second thing I noticed, however was that I was dressed all in black. I looked in the mirror for a few seconds and quietly asked myself why I have been dressing like someone died since Mr Ex left me? I ran my mind back to what I wore yesterday – black, the day before – black. I thought back to what I wore last weekend to the engagement party – yep, a little black dress.

I wondered for a second whether it was worth changing or should I leave it for fear of my arm falling off. Before I had even decided, I had taken my belt and my top off and I noticed I was wearing black undies! What the hell?!! Don’t panic, I kept the undies on. I rifled through my drawer one handed and pulled out my bright pink top. I changed my black shoes for my sparkly flip flops, and put on pink jewellery. And then I decided that my hair looked boring too. I scraped it back into two bunches. Changed my glasses for my thick rimmed plastic ones to complete the kooky look. That was much better.   

Went shopping around town. Mr Ex was going to take Spongebob to watch the new Wall-E film, but he decided to do that tomorrow instead, since he is away with the children for the weekend. I went and bought a gorgeous little lacy white number, with suspenders. Hmm. If only I could bring myself to try and put it on!

Met Mr Ex for a spot of lunch and a pot of tea at this delicious little café that I love, but that Mr Ex is not too fussed about. I like it there because the food is real, home made and not mass produced, the atmosphere is relaxed and chatty, they have wholemeal bread as well as white, serve real butter and not just margarine and the cutlery is always clean. Had a lovely lunch and when things between Mr Ex and I went quiet, I asked the same question I always ask him. I don’t know why I ask him, since he left me not the other way around, but I always feel I should check. I asked him if he was OK since the break-up, asked him if he felt awkward or were things OK for him? 

He told me that he wouldn’t say he was glad about it, but that it didn’t work out and now he feels more relaxed and happy. I agreed with him straightaway. I told him I was glad that it had been ended before we hated each other and before the children suffered. I told him I was glad that Spongebob and Squarepants can spend time with both their parents in the same room at the same time.

We talked about the future. Mr Ex asked me if I was ready for people to know yet – should we start letting everyone know that we’re apart now? I told him I didn’t mind, if he was ready then I was too. Out of the blue he assured me that the house, all the bills associated with it and our day to day to lives would continue to be paid by him right down to my driving lessons and gym membership. He told me that if I ever want anything I don’t have to ask, I still have the joint account if I want it. When I told him that wasn’t necessary, he told me not to feel awkward about ever using that account and that I should consider it as payment for spending the last four years bringing up wonderful children and devoting my life to our family. Times like this I find it so hard to hate him for leaving me, and find myself wishing that we could rewind and I could alter myself so that he wouldn’t have left me at all. In my weaker moments I can’t help but ask myself what was so wrong with me that he couldn’t live with me anymore.

Snapped out of that thought very quickly – as I am regaining my independence and trying to love every minute of it at the moment. I have only just recently started actually believing that I don’t need Mr Ex for my happiness. I have only just found myself starting to get over him. Long may that continue. 

Mr Ex noticed my left hand was missing a certain piece of jewellery that has been there for four years. “So you’re not wearing you wedding ring anymore then?”  I found myself starting to feel guilty for being the first one to stop wearing their wedding ring. I told him that I had just not put all my jewellery on this morning. He didn’t seem that bothered though, and nothing more was said. Thinking about it though, that ring is gorgeous. Platinum, adorned with 50 little diamonds totalling a carat. Maybe I’ll wear it on my other hand as opposed to not wearing it at all?!   

As we walked back to the car, Mr Ex asked me if I had thought about what car I want for myself. I told him how much I was planning to have as my budget, and I told him that I was thinking of one of two choices, a SEAT something or other that Mr E showed me that impressed me very much based on the shape of the cute little thing, and also this cute little Merc thing that I saw.

Mr Ex told me that he wanted to pay for my car, and that I should also consider an Audi A2 (I think it was A2) which was similar to this little Merc I had liked. As chance would have it, we walked past a little car dealership and there was an Audi whatever it was, and I had a little look. I must admit it looked nicer than the Merc, and come to think of it, Mercs are all that boring silver colour.

We came home in time for Mr Ex to pack a bag for himself and for me to pack the children’s things. He’s going out tonight with some friends and the children are staying for a few days with the grandparents. So I am home alone for a few days. I like it. I like how big the house feels with nobody but me in it. The only thing worrying me at the moment is that I’m desperate to go for a run, and I don’t think my shoulder will let me But, to be fair, my legs are fine, and surely that’s all that matters?! The sun is shining, it’s a beautiful evening. Running would be soooo nice. I think I will regretfully say that I will play it safe and stay in.

I hate playing it safe – there’s this song I like very very much with the lyric “It’s no better to be safe than sorry” and that has been one of my mantras for a long time. Thinking about it now though, it depends how sorry I would be for not playing it safe. I’m guessing that if I go for a long run, when I get back and my shoulder is hurting even worse than now, I’ll pretty damn sorry for not playing it safe.