Tearing at the Fabric

Of the space-time continuum


Home. Sigh

I usually commute to work at the end of a weekend with BG. But I drove home tonight.

I’m tired. And have a lot of planning/business to get through this week. I also have stacked on a bit of weight lately, and just need to concentrate on some clean, healthy habits for the next couple of months. I think my lack of fitness is contributing to my fatigue.

BG is terribly fatigued, too. I was there Friday-Monday and he slept a two hour stretch every afternoon.

He had staff woes again last night, and is frankly really sick of it. Feeling like he’s not doing a good job. He is hard on himself. He told me he was thinking seriously about resigning tomorrow.

I feel bad, I said, you know I support whatever you need to do. You always have a roof over your head with me. But realistically, I’m heading into the financially most stressful year at the moment.

He didn’t mean I was to support him! I knew that. But it kinda came out wrong. He was cool, wants to keep earning good money, in case he needs to help me with the finance for this new venture.


He’s so sweet.

I said that if he needs to resign, to do so. His health is negatively affected by his current stress levels and ridiculous hours. It’s just not worth it!

He was exceptionally loving and affectionate this weekend. It is so nice. He wanted to be close, stroked my skin, played with my hair, snuggled long and hard. Talked. About us. About how he can’t get over how good I am to him.

And pursued me, sexually. That doesn’t happen often. It was lovely.

He isn’t like Rog. He’s more guarded. Hasn’t melted into me completely like this, for days on end, before. I know he needed comfort. But also, he said that he’s never met anyone like me. Who is so consistently and completely loving and supportive. Not needy. Not high maintenance. Not all about myself. I rarely get upset, and am really mostly very positive around him. We both tend to seek the silver lining, as we solve problems together. It’s true. And I think I now see how frustrated I was by Roger’s I’m the Boss attitude. He always knew best. It was always what he wanted, how he wanted. I honestly mostly just went along with it, because he mostly used to make good decisions. Not always the way I would have gone about achieving the same goals. I would get shitty sometimes at his carelessness of other people.

The ultimate control he displayed was how he begged, pleaded and pursued me for eight years, to convince me to stay after he shattered me with his awful, in my homes, affair with my supposed friend.

Once I committed again, fully and completely, he left for Trinket. He’d been internet dating, shopping for my replacement for at least two years, all the while promising me the moon! Thst he’d changed! That he was not that guy!

It’s about control. Having the upper hand. Being the only person who gets to make decisions…I wasn’t allowed to leave him! He’d do the leaving, thank you very much!

But he couldn’t leave without a new woman lined up! The hunt for one got quite frantic. How he got anything done when he was constantly wooing these women, is beyond me. I saw some messages that one of them shared with me, when I told her he wasn’t single when he was pursuing her. Such a charmer. Very subtle, but very persistent. He was such a nice guy, just seeking a nice girl like her. He could help her. Rescuing her. As per usual.

You know, with young kids, and lots going on, you tend to have a short fuse some days. This time now was what I looked forward to. The time when the kids were off adulting, and we got to enjoy the fruits of our labours, and sacrifices. Got to melt into each other more and more. He was my person.

Still does my head in that the whore gets that instead of me. I earned it. Not her.

Uncharacteristically, BG sent me longing, I miss you, love you messages before I was even halfway home. He had it bad this long weekend. He’s starting to really struggle with the distance. Like I do sometimes. Not that I let him know, lol!

Just had to try to type this out. The feeling of being truly appreciated, respected, missed and loved. It’s good.

But yeah, I am wary. Roger made me feel cherished, treasured, worthy, wanted, desired.

And look how that turned out, right???



This post! Shit. Yeah. Totally.

“I was diagnosed with breast cancer the same day he filed divorce papers. Every visit to the cancer center for radiation and then chemotherapy, I saw men gently helping their wives out of cars and holding doors and sitting patiently in the waiting room, while I was there alone. I waited until I was alone in the car afterwards to have a good cry, every time.”

That was me.

I still remember the RT asking me about “my guy.” After we’d talked about my kids. I must have somehow presented as if I was partnered! It was only weeks really, since Roger left me, that I started radiation. And the tears leaked as I lay there, being blasted. I remember the pool of them that I lay in!

True story! Best ‘laser’ treatment ever!

Post surgically, and every day I had treatment (six weeks of daily radiation) it was hard. To hold it together, as I watched partners supporting the patients.

Not me.

But I was in literal survival mode. I just concentrated on getting through that day. That step in my treatment program. The tears came sometimes, but mostly they flooded after I finished treatment. That day, after my final radiation, I flew to the capital, and spent some time in the departure airport toilets, weeping, trying to get the tears out of me before I spent the weekend with my two best friends. It was a wonderful way to finish up, even though I was lacking in energy, we had a ball.

I’m so grateful for my tribe 💛

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The forever gift of cheating.

I struggle with tennis. Especially the Australian Open. I can’t watch it. But the last few nights, BG has had it on. Not knowing, of course!

Nadal’s win last night was especially triggering.

Leanne tried to get Roger to travel to Melbourne with her, to the Open. And a friend of her’s wedding?

He apparently told her that there was no way he could do that. That a) we didn’t have the money to do that kind of thing and b) PAULA WOULD FOR SURE QUESTION THAT! Was she insane???

She was introducing him to her friends. Dinner parties, etc, up in the city. Ugh. Makes me feel so, so stupid.

And, she posted a photo on Facebook (remember, we grew up together, I was her “friend” at one point) of her and Nadal, a couple of years later. She’s a celebrity whore, so totally a thing she would do. Go to the tennis and get pics with the players. Rafa was a hero of hers…

I went to bed, feeling the tension in my body, as the game went on. Trying to shut out the thoughts, and the commentary.

The triggers will never end, I know that now. Life never just reverts to the way it once was, after your love cheats. Whether together, or apart.


Economic woes

BG is just back from golf. With hard news. Our friends, Andy and Ingrid, are going to have to sell their amazing house further up the peninsula. His previously very successful, niche, publishing company, is failing. Like, badly.

They also own a city apartment, that he works from during the week, rents out on Airbnb for the weekends.

Their home is quite high end, with 180° sea views.

I feel for them. This Covid affected economy is killing them. He told BG he is going to have to cull all staff, sell their house, and start over, re-assessing how he can operate in a changed world.

He’s 57 this year. She’s 51.

And you know what? I really, really like these people, we holidayed down south with them in December.


Yeah, there’s a but.

I am feeling like maybe this is the karma bus???

Over twenty years ago, they started as an affair. He had two small children, and a Swedish wife, whom he brought here to live after several years of marriage, and two babies in Sweden.

That poor woman. Alone in a new country, a 5 year old and a baby, and a cheating husband. Worse, Ingrid knew her, even watched the children for them when they went on date nights. 🤮🤢🤮🤢

Ask me how it feels when a person you trust, and consider a friend, is fucking your partner.

I think I will always feel this way. Despite meeting them decades after the chaos and heartbreak (and both have told me separately that they have enormous sorrow for what their affair did to the ex-wife, and the children) and knowing they are now social media friends (who share children’s achievements with each other there) with the ex-wife, and mother of his two eldest children, I wonder. Am I a bad person? For feeling a little bit like maybe they deserve this???

I don’t want to be this person. It could happen to me. Karma probably isn’t real.

Why am I like this?

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A friend posted this today.

And I really needed it.

The rebuilding. The trying to create a new life. To find a way to be even more financially independent/successful. The seeking is hard. But the waiting is excruciating.

I’m getting there.

But my God, it is stressful.

My life is good. Hopefully about to get better this year. But man, EVERYTHING is hard. And I’ve worked hard before. The emotional pain of this work fells me often.


And yet, I keep getting back up.

Online friends recently commented on my resilience. A quality I thought I lacked. That I keep going, keep getting back up. They commented on my courage, taking on another relationship. And a long distance one, at that. The level of bravery to drive away and trust that BG isn’t cheating.

I know that.

I have also questioned my naivety. Am I just one stupid MOFO? Did I not learn the lessons?

A guy who still sees/is friends with his exes ✔️

A guy who I’m not friends on any social media platforms ✔️

But. As time has gone on, I have seen some other things.

I’ve seen through his I’ve been single and happy bravado. He’s kind. He’s sensitive. He wants a partner. A relationship. He has encouraged me to leave my belongings at his house. To “mark my territory.” I have no desire or need to do that. But he would hold some of my things here. At first I questioned it. Was it to get me to come back?


But I also think it is his way of reassuring me that he won’t bring another woman into this house. Because they would see a woman’s touch. Her toiletries, clothing, jewellery, etc.

It never stopped Leanne though. Nor Trinket. So I put a line through that thinking.

I know I have asked questions of myself. Is it okay that I’m cool about his friendship with Colleen. I mean, it took some time to realise they’d lived together thirty years ago. And longer again to realise they were fuck buddies between partners. The thing is, that doesn’t bother me. But I question. Should it???

If she was a person who resented me, or tolerated me, yeah, I’d be concerned. But she has genuinely embraced me. As a friend, independent of BG. She’s stayed at my house, when working in the nearby city the next day. I have done quiet due diligence here.

And question again and again. Roger did this. Hid his affair with his ex behind “friendship.” Am I just repeating patterns???

The thing is, looking back, I can see Leanne “tolerated” me. To cover the affair. We weren’t close. She never texted me. Only Rog. Colleen texts me, not BG, to organise plans, etc. We’ve talked as “girlfriends,” often. Leanne never did that. Any contact was initiated by me.

So yeah. I’m wary. Of my own nature. My natural tendency to trust people. Because that was a huge fuck up in my life before.


Evening dog walks on the beach

Took the dogs for an evening walk on the beach.

And ran into a woman Roger and I had a lot to do with when our children were at primary school. Lots of governance committees together.

I saw her about a year or so ago. She was disgusted in what Roger did to me. Said, “whaaaaat, he did whaaaat?!! But you two were my couple goals. You liked each other so much, had such a great, shared sense of humour, I can’t believe he did that! Men are such dogs. Shit, Paula, I’m so sorry.” My lip wobbled then, and I gave her a hug, “yeah, I never would ever have thought he was capable of this. It’s been really hard.”

This time I was with BG, and introduced him.

I admit, every time I meet someone from my past life, with BG, it’s awkward! I feel like I’m cheating on Rog.

Yep. Even now. It still feels wrong.


Long weekends be like

I came over to the beach yesterday afternoon. To help.

With omicron here, hospitality businesses are under a lot of pressure. All wage subsidies are gone. Limits on numbers. In a venue that can hold 1000, they are only allowed 100. The ability to zone off the restaurant and restaurant bar from the bar and bistro means 200. BG’s budgets and forecasts have foretold a $60k loss this weekend.

The upside is, he had scallops for me. I baconed-and-garlicked some while I marinated some raw ones for scallop aguachilli.

We ate them too fast to photograph well. I snapped this as he was gobbling them….

I’m not gonna make it to my work do. Another night on the door at the club, scanning membership, vaccine passes and counting ins and outs…

It’s hot. Dry. Not my weather. A beach blob and a swim are in order.

We just went for a drive to the markets, checked out some new subdivisions, and talked. About property. About buying a motorhome. He did his dumb thing, and put himself down. About how he didn’t invest in a future. Etc.

I growled at him.

“We all make choices, based on our circumstances, and backgrounds. I had children young. Working hard, scrimping and saving was just what I had to do. You had no one. Your life was a big party. Everyone was drinking, doing drugs, partying. No dependents. Understandable that the “planning” wasn’t like mine. Do you think I planned for being a single, medium-low income earner, with few options in my 50s??? I didn’t. But I try not to be mad at myself. I probably saw red flags, and maybe I ignored them? It is what it is. We just plan on how to go forward now. Both on our own, and together. That’s the tricky part. How to stay safe, not get/feel ripped off. To treat each other fairly, no matter the outcome.”

It’s really hard, starting over. Especially as an empath. I worry for everyone!

Had a lovely lunch with my youngest daughter yesterday. She’s a million times happier. An internal reappointment/new job/promotion/segue. So much better for her mental health. That helps mine!

Am doing homework. Finally got all the documentation for the new franchise. It’s full on! Of course. Reviewing, comparing my lawyer’s notes on the draft documents, and preparing my finances for the first few invoices…here we go!

BG has expressed interest and support for all of this. But hasn’t asked to see a thing. I have it all here, am reviewing right now…Has mentioned he’d like to help, regularly.

The reality is, I see who he is. He’s fully focused on his job. It’s all consuming. He doesn’t have any interest in this. Except to hope it does well, and it fulfills me and my needs.

In many ways, I’m glad. This gets to remain my baby. But a small part of me yearns for Roger’s input. I wonder if I will ever not think about him, and us???

Probably not.

It’s Aussie Open time.

It’s a trigger.

I hadn’t looked Leanne up in a long time. Years and years. Ugly, googly eyed cow that she is! Why would I?

But with Nadal through to the next round, I told BG a rare thing. That Leanne asked Roger to go to the Australian Open with her!

Like, we went nowhere. Had zero funds for travel. She said, come meet me at the Aussie Open! Did she think I wouldn’t notice??? That he was in Melbourne! Spending money? What reason was there for a farmer to be there? No business expenses he could claim! 🤣

She has a picture on her FB (we are not friends, but is visible to public) of Nadal and her. A couple of years later. She got there. Probably went many times. I don’t know. She’s permanently single, a chartered accountant, has the means, and answers to no one.

The Open is a trigger. It always will be, I guess.

Life is in transition. And this is going to be a year of it. With the premises I have leased, about to be built. November is the availability for fit out. In my meeting yesterday, we discussed contingency plans. What happens if we are delayed, etc? The franchisors are very prepared. Are fronting the costs of temporary ‘pop-up’ clinics until premises are available. I know this is expensive, but I feel that the parent company is pretty robust. It needs to be! The fees are high!

Doggos are curled at my feet, stretched out on the cool tiles, trying to cool off.

It’s not a bad life. But I really am tired. Tired of rebuilding. Tired of working so hard. I worked my butt off as a younger woman, fully believing that by our mid 50s, we’d be chilling.



Here I am, stressing and working just as hard.

I hope I’m doing the right thing…

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Holding back

It’s a theme of my new life.

I hold back.

I never used to. I felt safe, being loved (hmmm) by Rog.

I held back from posting a couple of days ago, about my now departed MIL’s birthday.

Doesn’t mean I didn’t think of her. The first thing that came to me on waking was, “it’s MIL’s 82nd anniversary of being born.” She’s been gone almost four years now. I miss her sass!

She shared a birthday with my paternal grandfather. 120 years and two days ago, he was born.

That number made me sit back and reflect. I’m the eldest, born to parents just in their 20s really. So 120 sounds like another generation again! Ancient history. But mostly, it made me – once again – realise that I only have this one life. And over half of it is behind me! I’m just two years younger than my mother was when she died. I push hard, every day, to live it well.

Today, I have a full calendar. A little self-care and maintenance, a big business meeting, meeting my daughter for lunch…then the long weekend. I’m a bit pissed that my work have decided we are having a work do on Saturday afternoon. On a long weekend, WTAF? A boats and BBQ lake session.

But, I do love my four day work weeks, that afford me four day long weekends, when public holidays roll around! Just a tad offended work will encroach on my personal time. Only a few more months, and it will be in my past, as well.

New adventures await.

It’s a bit daunting. And yeah, I wish Norm was here to share my achievements with me.

The old Norm. The pretend one.

BG is encouraging. But even that is a little challenging. I mean, this is my life, not entirely comfortable with sharing parts of it with someone who hasn’t been along for the whole ride. If that makes ANY sense at all?

Probably not. But it’s how I feel. A bit bristly, a bit … off. And I feel bad about it. Like my feelings aren’t valid. That I’m being a bad person for having these feels.

You don’t get that with a life-long partner. Sharing was a given.

Wish I was more articulate. None of this makes a huge amount of sense.


Sorry. Not sorry

When Leanne outed her long affair with my darling, he was ‘sorry.’

So sorry.

He didn’t know when, how, where, or why it started.

He couldn’t remember details.

I knew that was bullshit.

It took weeks to discover it wasn’t a one off “mistake,” but a year and a half long, fully engaged, sexual and emotional affair.

Conducted almost exclusively in my homes, while I was at work.

The texts started every day, as I drove out of our farm, having kissed him goodbye.

A man who could barely turn a computer on, definitely couldn’t turn it off, was all of a sudden embracing technology. I thought he’d just grown up, and accepted the inevitable. That tech was here to stay 🤦‍♀️

He was SO sorry. (That he was caught.)

It’s true that they are not sorry when they choose to betray you, only when they are caught.

And, you know what? He’s never once been sorry about Trinket. He saw me drop 22kg in a month or two. He saw how devastated I was. How much I loved him. He took advantage of my vulnerability, and we made love like we were dying. (Ha! Didn’t know it until the very end, but I was! Grade III cervical cancer from the HPV he and Leanne gifted me.) He has never once apologised. He has never once asked how I am, knowing I had surgery and radiotherapy just weeks after he left, weeks after my move into my untainted sanctuary, my first home where he hasn’t fucked someone who isn’t me in it.

They know. When their dick slides into another woman. That it is going to devastate you.

They just don’t care.

That is who I loved. My darling.

He never loved me. And that continues to break me every day.

And I continue to rebuild myself every day. Fighting all of the not good enoughs. All of the self doubts.

Every. Single. Day.