We went to a local hammam in Fes city.
It was really great. Totally outside of most of our group’s comfort zone, but hey, I surprised myself (not really, I’m braver than I sound) and was first down to her knickers before we entered the hot room.
Once the scrubbing started – by a large, pendulous breasted Muslim woman, whose body odour was … challenging, naked breasts hitting my face hilarious, and her good humour infectious – I actually kinda enjoyed it. I didn’t expect my breasts and buttocks to be so thoroughly, and enthusiastically sandpapered! Her doing my back made me realise how I have no intimate human touch in my life. Yes, friends and my children hug me. But, my back was ACHING to be itched! And now I can’t get any more of that, and it is itchy as all hell. It was a bit … weird having my genitals pummeled as she scrubbed my thighs! Good lord 😂. Like rough sex, without any penetration!
Anyway, after the first two of us were done by this woman, we got chatting. Cyndy is a 62 year old, ex-hippy Canadian mother of three, grandmother of one. She asked me about my single status.
Awesome, lol. My (not) favourite subject!
I briefly banged out my usual patter, “twelve months ago, my beloved partner of thirty years up and left me for a woman he met online, lying to her, saying he was single.”
She gasped softly, shook her head sadly, and asked me how I was being so kickarse, that I was a very fun, good looking (???) 50-something year old, with a wicked sense of humour, and a real sparkle.
I said, it’s been harder and more heartbreaking than she could possibly imagine, but that my best response is to try to live well. That my enthusiasm for life, my interest in other people is a mask for the deep pain I feel every minute of every day, but I just must keep living as well as I possibly can.
She then asked me if I saw it coming.
The crazy thing is, the honest answer is no. Not at all.
You’d think after I knew he was a cheater, after all I’ve learned about cheaters, his lying for decades, his love addiction diagnosis, that I should not have been shocked.
But I was. I still am. I don’t know who this Roger is. My darling bear was nothing like this cruel, heartbreaking bastard. He just picked up all the love I thought he felt for me (the “love of his life” – yeah, right) and landed it HARD on Trinket. Here you go, Trinket, see how YOU do with this. I broke the last woman who loved me. How strong are you?
It’s so fucked up, you just can’t fathom it.
Anyway, I tell this brief tale, to illustrate who I am in day-to-day life. I am nothing like the stuff that gets put down here. I function. I get shit done I try my damnedest to live well. To love, laugh, appreciate, give back.
The reality is, I am heartbroken still, but have to lug that broken heart around, like a sack of bricks, but obviously do it pretty well to the outside world. I am kinda proud of that. That my pain is not worn on my sleeve.
And Bella, my racing friend, has been sending me the sweetest messages, about my holiday, and that no one deserves it more than me, etc. I feel very embarrassed and humbled. She is supposed to be Roger’s friend. I just brush it off, kindly, saying we have all worked damn hard.
But, I know I did work my butt off. There is nothing that will ever compensate for the utter agony of working so hard to achieve the goal, only to see some cunning bitch swoop in and steal it all away from you.
But, I can’t change a damn thing, just live well. Coming into the poshest, leafiest areas of London tonight, in the wee small hours, driving over Westminster Bridge, etc, above ground, in a minicab, instead of the pregnant girl who arrived here in 1992, with £200 in her pocket, on the tube – that was an emotional moment.
Being greeted with the warmest bear hug, a packet of tampons (tip, don’t get your period unprepared in a Muslim country…) and a good English cup of tea at 2am, by Sammy was just delicious.
Lying here in her lovely Maida Vale apartment, contemplating a lush weekend? This is the stuff I worked for. This is the stuff Roger is missing out on. Sharing this with me. I guess Trinket must be hella special, huh?
Night peeps. I gotta get some sleep 😴😴😴