Another step has been taken.
Last exam for this year has been completed, last research project submitted. That was yesterday afternoon.
Today I did a twelve hour day in the office to try to catch up on some of what has been piling up as I studied. I love my boss and her support and patience as I climb this maybe silly little mountain. I worked for her when I was happy, when she saw how in love we were. She would often comment on the hilarious, loving texts he would send me most days at work.
While he was fucking my “friend” – maybe after he fucked her, maybe before. Definitely after, and before he texted her. Because she was texted every day, multiple times per day. And me too. He was good at keeping us both on the hook.
So, I can’t go to my friend’s mother’s funeral four hours away tomorrow. I want to go, but there is no way I can take a day off work in our busy season, especially after my boss has been so fantastic this past month while she hasn’t had me there. I am sort of like her PA as well as my other roles. I need to give her a few months of full-on attention. She knows my story, she was one who held me as I fell apart. She came to my country, engaged, ten years after her first fiance died, and she grieved for the boy she loved. The second one was a multiple cheat, shagging all his staff. She gets it. We don’t discuss it anymore, but in the last week, she has told me at least four times per day that she loves me! I mean, really, amazing. I owe her.
I will go to work again tomorrow, and hope my friend feels she is doing the best she can to farewell her mother. We are inaugurating her into the Motherless Bitches Club this weekend, with a girls’ weekend at my holiday home. I say “we” – I mean myself, my oldest friend (who I have kept at arms length for quite some time, but haven’t fallen out with) and her. My old friend, J, and myself had our mothers die within two years of each other, both when we were 30 and 32. Our old uni friend, L, had hers die this weekend. (Note we didn’t “lose” our mothers, they didn’t “pass,” they died.)
I can’t wait. I need some chill time, wine, laughter and friends. Let’s hope I can recreate that like I used to have.
Before I lost my joy.